I’m not in hiding.
There are doors to the left, one of which will take me to the past. There is a road on the right, which goes straight ahead to freedom and bliss.
The choice seems obvious. But what are these currents passing through, highlighting alphabets from a script? It feels as if the past beckons me – there is a story hidden somewhere.
Am I the only person left alive on this desolate street?
Why have I been spared by the killers?
Am I destined to be the key – to a not-so-distant past?
The future can wait.