I set off again this morning, turning my head wearily towards the shelf
before opening the door. The daylight gave me just a touch more courage than
I’d had the previous night. Despite that, I did not have a decision to make.
Bringing myself to inspect the shelf is currently out of the question. I know
that avoiding it does not change its potential state, I just want to hold onto
the comfort of finding “safe” shelter for a little bit longer.
For the first time since I
found this home, I dared venture past it. The trees continued on, but not as
deeply as they had upon entering. They stopped at a large field where, from a
distance, I’d noticed signs of civilization. Small buildings next to and facing
each other, a very faint smell of food cooking. Sweet, soft noises, convincing
me of the safety this place seemed to offer. All of these things relieved the
tiredness in my feet and carried my through the field, and into town.
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