I looked out the window, watched the branches of the trees swayed in the darkness. It’s cold, out there. In this house, I was safe. In bed, it’s warm.


Before I knew it, my feet touched the cold tiles, the door shutting itself behind me. And I was alone, greeted by the chilly gush of the wind. Ahead of me, a path laid, covered by the black ink of the night. I hesitated.


There’s a voice, cautioning me. I glanced at my watch. It’s midnight. I knew this was madness. And yet, I found myself being drawn to it. It’s like there’s a magnetic force, pulling me. Or maybe I was just plain wacko, I couldn’t figure.


I squinted, trying to make out any living form that might be hovering in the shadows, waiting for the right time to pounce. There was none, I was almost sure. I was utterly alone.


I braved myself. Pulling my jacket tighter around me, I stepped on the ground carefully, my slippers barely making any sound. No harm was going to land its hand upon me. At least, not tonight.


I could feel the wind slapping my face. I could finally see the path, the lamp posts glowering, giving it a dangerous feel. As I moved forward, I felt frightened and a certain calmness at the same time. The later surprised me.


This was a risk. One that I enjoyed immensely. And like the others, it bounded me with a certain lightness. I felt free, my head clearer that it had ever been in the past few days. I took a deep breath, soaking in my surrounding. For once, I could think clearly, weighing carefully the options I have in Life, the decisions that would determine the flow of the next few years.


I went to bed with a content feeling, knowing tonight, I would sleep soundly.



But tomorrow morning when I wake up, these will all be gone. And I will think, I’m just another disappointment.