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Description
The first thing I feel is the lining of my right sock gently caressing my tired toes. The cushion beneath it slowly compresses as my sneakers wrap tightly around my foot, the soft cloth bending and folding into an intricate origami. I begin to feel pebbles take their shape through the thick foam and plastic, slowly pressing against my sole as a masseuse might. Something creaks beneath these stones, the hard dead cells of wooden planks slowly being crushed beneath my weight. The ground’s support slowly reaches up my leg, my knee locking into place and my hip coming to a temporary rest.

This happens all over again, but this time with my left leg. One wooden plank after another, slowly traversing this bridge on the cold hard dirt. The light angels dance among the treetops, making their passage across the sky at a pace only one truly at peace would be able to perceive. A faint sound rumbles through my skin, but I care not. Trifles such as this don’t matter in the world of chaos. The rumblings grow slightly stronger, and I can feel the vibrations in my toes as well. Something begins to appear in front of me, though by appearance it is not recognizable.

As the rumblings grow louder, I look ahead and I see the object grow into a forlorn figure, an absence of what glitters among the sleeping leaves. It grows taller, wispier, pulling itself out until it reaches far beyond sight. And by some form of movement, as if gliding upon the emptiness of space, it approaches near me. The wooden planks creak furiously, and something screeches loudly in my ear as the form begins to glow with an eerie light and the night is drowned out by angels of destruction, guided not by hate or love but with the path of greedy silver. And for an instant, I see something in that figure. I see it stop and stretch two jointless limbs out in awkward embrace of the trail, a trail that many follow but few ask to escape before arriving at their destination. I see the figure slowly disappear into the depths of darkness, screaming and howling as it slowly fades away.

Everything fades away, drawn by the luster of where the figure disappears towards. I am the last to go, wandering among fields of absolute nothing, drifting between wooden planks and silver roads, gradually becoming one with that figure, the figure that exists only in light and never in dark, yet where we’re going neither light nor dark exist.

And just before we complete this exodus, the figure looks at me. It is smiling.

Description
The first thing I feel is the lining of my right sock gently caressing my tired toes. The cushion beneath it slowly compresses as my sneakers wrap tightly around my foot, the soft cloth bending and folding into an intricate origami. I begin to feel pebbles take their shape through the thick foam and plastic, slowly pressing against my sole as a masseuse might. Something creaks beneath these stones, the hard dead cells of wooden planks slowly being crushed beneath my weight. The ground’s support slowly reaches up my leg, my knee locking into place and my hip coming to a temporary rest.

This happens all over again, but this time with my left leg. One wooden plank after another, slowly traversing this bridge on the cold hard dirt. The light angels dance among the treetops, making their passage across the sky at a pace only one truly at peace would be able to perceive. A faint sound rumbles through my skin, but I care not. Trifles such as this don’t matter in the world of chaos. The rumblings grow slightly stronger, and I can feel the vibrations in my toes as well. Something begins to appear in front of me, though by appearance it is not recognizable.

As the rumblings grow louder, I look ahead and I see the object grow into a forlorn figure, an absence of what glitters among the sleeping leaves. It grows taller, wispier, pulling itself out until it reaches far beyond sight. And by some form of movement, as if gliding upon the emptiness of space, it approaches near me. The wooden planks creak furiously, and something screeches loudly in my ear as the form begins to glow with an eerie light and the night is drowned out by angels of destruction, guided not by hate or love but with the path of greedy silver. And for an instant, I see something in that figure. I see it stop and stretch two jointless limbs out in awkward embrace of the trail, a trail that many follow but few ask to escape before arriving at their destination. I see the figure slowly disappear into the depths of darkness, screaming and howling as it slowly fades away.

Everything fades away, drawn by the luster of where the figure disappears towards. I am the last to go, wandering among fields of absolute nothing, drifting between wooden planks and silver roads, gradually becoming one with that figure, the figure that exists only in light and never in dark, yet where we’re going neither light nor dark exist.

And just before we complete this exodus, the figure looks at me. It is smiling.