I took the road unknown, if you didn't know.
It lead me to the sky.
The sky fell onto it's side as I walked through the forest, dark and eerie, the clouds and oblivion falling in front of me with a cloud clap. I was walking West, and West disappeared. Now, I walk through the sky. The rain obeys gravity and falls from the clouds to the ground, only an inch from their origin of condensation. I walk around them, and as I pass them, the sky is blue. Gradually, the weather is gone. Only blue and the ground beneath me and myself.
A boom of thunder snaps, and the delicate blue splits in an eternal black tear from the ground up. Two realities appear on either side of the torn sky.
On one side of the tear, I see myself as an old woman, watching children play on a playground in my hometown. On the other, I see my love as an elderly man, sitting on a park bench, feeding birds. He suddenly slaps the remainder of his feed to the ground and looks to the sky, and I notice tears glistening down his cheek. He says my name and begins heavily sobbing. I begin walking to my love, and a tombstone with my name appears where his face once was. I notice that I do not recognize the graveyard. He must be crying because I am dead?
I suddenly hear screaming coming from the other side of the tear, and when I go to that side, I see myself, still as an elderly woman, screaming loudly at what looks to be a photo. She says only two words, "The middle, the middle!" Over and over again, she screams them. Then she finally drops the photo and the glass shatters. She runs away and I no longer see her, but I see the person in the photo. It appears to be a photo of me, where I am, in the midst of the two realities playing before me.
I realize now that I must choose one reality and live it.
A long time went by before I knew it, staring into the two portals. One of them containing my love, sobbing into his hands on a sidewalk covered in pigeon feed, and the other containing a broken photo of myself, in an empty living room, where I can hear myself restrainingly sobbing, as I always have done, in the distance.
Thinking about what my elder self screamed, I approached the two realities.
Then I walked through the black crack in the sky.
It lead me to the sky.
The sky fell onto it's side as I walked through the forest, dark and eerie, the clouds and oblivion falling in front of me with a cloud clap. I was walking West, and West disappeared. Now, I walk through the sky. The rain obeys gravity and falls from the clouds to the ground, only an inch from their origin of condensation. I walk around them, and as I pass them, the sky is blue. Gradually, the weather is gone. Only blue and the ground beneath me and myself.
A boom of thunder snaps, and the delicate blue splits in an eternal black tear from the ground up. Two realities appear on either side of the torn sky.
On one side of the tear, I see myself as an old woman, watching children play on a playground in my hometown. On the other, I see my love as an elderly man, sitting on a park bench, feeding birds. He suddenly slaps the remainder of his feed to the ground and looks to the sky, and I notice tears glistening down his cheek. He says my name and begins heavily sobbing. I begin walking to my love, and a tombstone with my name appears where his face once was. I notice that I do not recognize the graveyard. He must be crying because I am dead?
I suddenly hear screaming coming from the other side of the tear, and when I go to that side, I see myself, still as an elderly woman, screaming loudly at what looks to be a photo. She says only two words, "The middle, the middle!" Over and over again, she screams them. Then she finally drops the photo and the glass shatters. She runs away and I no longer see her, but I see the person in the photo. It appears to be a photo of me, where I am, in the midst of the two realities playing before me.
I realize now that I must choose one reality and live it.
A long time went by before I knew it, staring into the two portals. One of them containing my love, sobbing into his hands on a sidewalk covered in pigeon feed, and the other containing a broken photo of myself, in an empty living room, where I can hear myself restrainingly sobbing, as I always have done, in the distance.
Thinking about what my elder self screamed, I approached the two realities.
Then I walked through the black crack in the sky.
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