There’s a cut, deep inside, just a little, too subtle to even be noticed. I let the pain linger for a second, something to remind me of my place in the world, and how the universe works. I cannot stay with this pain — it’s just an alarm, a wake up call telling me that the road ahead is far, and the journey is long.
I take a duct tape called humility and seal the wound, my badge of courage, and continue to move forward.
“This is just a stop, a respite,” I tell myself. “I’ve stayed long enough. Gotta continue walking.”
I dust off my journal, open the pages, find the blank surface, and let my palm stroke the alabaster surface. Grids will appear, so is another story, another person. I will revisit this world and I will move toward a new frontier of letters.
“Let’s do this,” I tell the page, smiling.