Embers in the Gloom

My feet have lead me to a place where my heart quickens with fear. Logic pulls me in one direction while my heart tugs me in another. Yet even if I wanted to continue forward, my feet are cemented in their place. They do not wish to move in any direction, and that is fine with me. For beads of sweat glisten on my brow and run down my spine. Muscles ached from miles of difficult travel. It was a pleasant reprieve to stand still, but it felt odd. It had been a long while since I have had a moment to breathe, a moment to relax and look around. My legs folded beneath me till I was sitting on the cold wet ground with my knees to my chest. I pulled a cigarette from one of my numerous pockets  and a lighter from another. The small flamed licked to life and then was gone, leaving behind small embers of red tobacco burning. Smoke drifted into the morning sky, and mixed with the white fog all around me. I pulled on the butt and let my mind drift away like the smoke. My lungs burned lightly but my mind cleared and my muscles relaxed.

How far had I come? How many more sweat laden miles lay ahead of me? Thoughts and questions came with every drag, and then were gone with each exhale. My heart began to race as the embers burned and turned the tobacco into ash. I would have to be moving again, trudging along the gloomy land to a brighter future. Or at least what I hoped would be a brighter one. So far along this road I have seen little of color and joyfulness. The embers burning far too quickly were my one and only reminder of what color was. Otherwise all had been black and white, dreary and less dreary. But hope had finally come in the form of a split road. My mind can only grasp the darkness which one road leads to, and can only fathom the green grass and the blue skies the other may hold. What if I make the wrong choice? Where will it lead me, and will I ever see the brightness of day again? Or will I forever be stuck in an everlasting gloom?

Something deep inside me pulls me from the cold and wet ground to my feet. My muscles burn, not the ache or tiredness but the burn of anticipation
on and adrenaline. I take one last long pull from the cigarette and drop it to the ground. Smashing the embers, ash and butt into the ground with the toe of my worn boot. The time has come to make a decision. Do I follow the logic my mind is laying before me, or do I take the road my heart is pulling me towards? My feet carry me swiftly to the fork in the road and without a moments hesitation I am trudging along. It is the beginning of a new adventure and I can already see the fog thinning. Or is it?