No description fit it. That was the point. Movement mattered more than arrival.
By GoldenSpeechabout a month ago in Chapters
Apologies left unsaid returned as restless air. Speaking them calmed the weather.
Each morning, the river reversed briefly, refreshing its source. Progress included return.
After truth was spoken, silence arrived—not empty, but complete. Nothing more was needed.
The closer travelers came to clarity, the less room there was for distraction. Insight demanded commitment.
Some felt wet without clouds. Others remained dry in storms. Experience followed openness, not circumstance.
When it rang, nothing external changed. But no one who heard it lived the same way again. Some sounds cannot be unheard.
Joy smoothed the road. Fear roughened it. Over time, travelers learned to feel where others had struggled and where they had trusted.
Once acknowledged, the shadow no longer followed aggressively. It walked beside instead. Darkness did not disappear—it became companionable.
Some pages remained blank until readers questioned themselves honestly. Others changed meaning over time. The books did not contain truth—they activated it.
Objects fell through the bridge instantly. Only people crossed safely—and only if they carried nothing unnecessary. Emotional weight mattered more than physical. Release became balance.
Whenever people truly listened—to each other, to themselves—the sky cleared slightly. Not dramatically, just enough to notice. Weather followed awareness.
