The Earth is large. Large enough that you think you can hide from anything. From Fate. From God. If only you found a place far enough away. So you run. To the edge of the Earth. Where all is safe again. Quiet, and warm. The solace of salt air. The peace of danger left behind. The luxury of grief. And maybe, for a moment, you believe you have escaped.
We are, if anything, creatures of habit. Drawn to the safety and the comfort of the similar. But what happens when the familiar becomes unsafe? When the fear that we've been desperately trying to avoid, finds us where we live?
1 comment:
we are nothing but feeble mortals, though most of us tend to forget..and even if we believe we have escaped, mere reality dawns upon us and we look elsewhere for another shelter
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