I wrote this story many years ago, when I was (yet again) in the situation described here. It's happened to me many times. But I still believe it's written accurately.
A small, small, impossibly small man stood before a wall of fog.
It seemed the entire world lay ahead of him—a vast, impossible Universe rising from the earth at his feet and stretching into infinity. These clouds, so voluminous, like immense feather pillows, these billowing masses of fog.
Around him and behind, there was nothing. No one. He stood alone before the infinite. Leaving everything THERE.
There, far away, where no road led back, remained earthly life—so simple, so flawed, so comprehensible and familiar.
He caught himself not fully grasping the finality of this step.
Continue reading https://exegi.substack.com/p/to-pass-through-the-fog
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