Lichen on the tracks
Sarah walks along the tracks. Why? Where is she going? What is she running from?
Lichen on the Tracks
Sarah looked down at her feet. Her initial enthusiasm had faded but it was too late to turn back. She allowed herself one short, wistful glance back the way she’d come; the skeletal trees, twisted and gnarled, were half-hidden in the gently swirling fog. She shuddered. No, she wouldn’t be going back that way; she couldn’t go back at all. The path in front of her was even mistier; she could barely make out the trees just in front of her, let alone the twists and turns that she knew lay ahead. At her feet the wooden beams were speckled with lichen; this path had not been walked in a long time. But that was hardly surprising, no-one crossed the border, it was often whispered about; horror stories were told in firelight about the fate of those that had tried and besides, everyone knew nothing good could ever come of crossing that border.
Yet here she was, cold and alone, walking on train tracks long abandoned by sensible people her only companions the silvery green lichens, growing in ghostly rosettes on the decaying wood. It was impossible to tell if she was anywhere near the border, for all she knew she may have already crossed it. It didn’t really matter either way, no-one was going to follow her this far out, fear from years of rumours would make sure of that.
Sarah had heard many tales of what lay beyond the border, most of them contradictory, but despite how illogical it was she couldn’t help feeling that some of them might have some truth to them, and that she was making a terrible mistake. The niggling doubt wasn’t enough to drive her back. She had one chance to make it over the border and if she turned back now they’d never give her another chance; things would go back to the way they were and she’d be even more trapped. She wondered briefly if she’d ever regret this, it could hardly be worse than the life she’d left behind, but was there a chance she’d regret making the journey in the first place?
The windswept damp leaves in circles by her feet, and Sarah’s mind seemed to echo the movement, her thoughts spiralling down to the doubts and fears she carried with her, the tiny darkness from which she could never escape...
She shook her head sternly, there was so much she could be thinking about like what might be waiting for her, what sort of living she could make for herself when no-one knew who she was, what she was. Looking up she saw a ray of light cutting through the fog, the mist seeming to glow as the light struck it.
She had arrived.
