They hadn’t spoken in some time. A growing nostalgia metastasizing in each of them.
Traveling mind-readers forgetting their mission in the mist. Now turning towards another, interrupting the rustling. Discouragement smeared on her face as her cheeks sunk, she grabbed his arm and said, ‘we should have seen it by now.’ ‘The gate was supposed to be on this path,’ he replied. ‘Pull out your phone and check maps, mine is dead.’ ‘Wow you didn’t bring your portable charger in your backpack?’ She snapped back and then let out a sigh. ‘The receptionist at the hotel said it would be a walk, and now we’re lost, but we will find our way.’
‘Yeah you’re right, it seems like our life is on repeat right now, like we’re stuck in a loop.’ We’ll never find the gate if we keep walking in circles. ‘I don’t think we’re walking in circles, we’re heading straight.’ ‘We agreed in our waivers that we would be stripped of our orientation.’ ‘We’re here to fix our crises. That’s why we’re heading to the gate.’ ‘Well where is it?’ I’m not sure, but maybe silence will be the start to fixing our crises. Ok, lets just keep moving. He nodded in agreement.
They continued in silence
Much time had passed and the nostalgia slowly melted leaving a fresh luster in the fog. Smiling they eavesdropped on the leaves, and inhaled the fresh, fall air as the wind performed shiatsu on their broken souls. Neither mission had succeeded. They remained lost in search of the gate, but the fog was lessening.
Painting by Graham Greckem