As you slip through the shadowy forest, grass tickles your feet, and the silken warmth of a summer night surrounds you. Spheres of pale fire crowd the air. One darts close enough to set your flowing gown ablaze – yet doesn’t. Instead, you feel a chill in its wake. The lights hover and dance around you, illuminating your path. Just where does that path lead? You cannot answer, but your feet continue to move.
Soon, you spy a clearing. The orbs, erratic as their individual paths may be, are steadily converging in the field ahead. You feel the tug. They are the moon. You are the sea. Your path is not yours to choose.
A dull ache stirs within you. You try to continue, but it quickly blossoms into agonizing headache. A voice pierces your skull, and you grind to a halt.
“Is this the way?”
Perhaps your choice is not set in stone after all. You linger on the cusp of the clearing, clutching at your head, squeezing your eyes shut against the brightness of the congregating lights.
What will you do now?