As I walk, nearly every step creates a line of light above. This line of light creates branches, ones which are unpredictable and creative in its own manner; taking steps where it wishes to be. Those slowly diminish as new ones appear in different places, never the same as the one before. I don’t remember how I got here, but looking back is a still world of existence I know not meant for me. I feel a pull toward the spur of light formation so I continue to tread forward. A thread of hope I hang onto for a new life in this brighter scene.