The fire is a pleasant relief from the cold.
Outside, a whirlwind of flurries and ice make their way through this flatland. Creating a frozen tundra of dirt and tumbleweeds.
Feeling comes back to my fingers… slowly.
It seems my mind has to thaw as well.
The long road ahead beckons like a side street prostitute, tempting me to come and follow to a place I know I don’t want to be, but one I can’t stay away from.
Do I have what it takes to carry on and finish what I started? Or will I fail like every time before and crumble under the pressure.
Now that I am still, my mind travels from a place of doubt to one of comfort and stability.
I’m reminded of roots. How they dig deep and provide life. That sounds like something I want. And need.
The road has no place for me to call my own. All I want is to dig deep, and have a place to call home.