"It's been days, or is it nights?", he thinks to himself since he noticed that light far off in the distance. It seems like years since he's had the courage to look up from his cold, worn hands. Not worn from years of hard work. No, from years of worry. Of strain. "How long HAS it been?", he asks himself, knowing the answer all to well to even answer it out loud.
But that light. Why was he noticing it now? "Has it been there all this time?", he wonders. "What could it possibly mean?" "IT DOESN'T MATTER NOW!!!!", he yells at the top of lungs, knowing no one is listening.
"I can't. I just can't do it", he whispers. It's just to scary these days. Not knowing where to start. Where to look. Where he'll end up.
He was once told he'd always be given enough light to see the next step, but these days? Well, he has enough trouble just trying to see his feet. That is, unless he holds them up to his face. "And, that's just no way for one to walk, now is it?", he chuckles to himself. But still, he did notice that light. It had to mean something that he would see it at this moment in time and in his life.
After a bit of thinking, it occurred to him that even though the distance seems way too far for his comfort level, he had to go see what it is. The funny thing is that as he started to stand up, he noticed something quite humorous. Both of his feet were already pointing in the right direction.
Regardless, he's taking the security of his worries with him.
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