Mystery
There was a piece of folklore I’d heard whispered about for years, but never wanted to believe. Some said it was fountain of youth, some said it was a labyrinth, and still others said it was a trap.
I laughed it off, because it was absurd. Still, a small kernal of curiosity lingered in the back of my mind and refused to let go.
Even traveling thousands of miles away didn’t resolve the urge. It annoyed me, because the childish notion did not suit my path in life anymore.
I pushed it aside, but a family emergency called me back to my childhood home.
That lingering curiosity flared into an inferno as the nostalgia of youth and being home washed over me.
I’d rushed home and the emergency that so called to me was a gross exaggeration. Which was an immense relief, but had my brain brought me back here under that pretense?
Clearly I needed to resolve my curiosity before I went home. I shrugged, packed some gear, and followed the path that everyone said would lead me to a thing of legend.
After several minutes I was bored and the path looked no different from the hundreds I’d walked over the years. The trees seemed less worn–the path less traveled, but nothing took my breath away.
I walked another mile before settling on a flat rock and having a snack before turning around and heading home.
The kernal of curiosity dissolved into disappointment, but at least I knew the truth. There was nothing out here to be found.
With that door closed I jogged back down the path–ready to begin my life anew.
But, as I walked back down the path something felt different even though I’d passed this way only minutes before.
The trailhead was overgrown and the branches arched far over my head. A rusted car waited where my brand new car once sat. I thought I’d taken a wrong turn, but the license plate matched.
No mythical object met me on that path, but nothing of my old life remained.
I was called here for a reason.
The thought terrified me.
Where would I go now?
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