The Road Beyond the House

When I was younger, there was a road outside that became almost completely dark at night.

There were not many houses nearby.

Mostly trees.

Beyond a certain distance, there was very little light at all.

I used to imagine walking down that road alone.

It sounds strange now.

Most children are afraid of dark roads.

I think I was afraid too.

But there was another feeling underneath it.

Curiosity, maybe.

Or something closer to relief.

The farther I imagined walking, the less visible I became.

No one asking where I was going.

No one knowing what I was thinking.

No one waiting for me to return as the same person who left.

I never took that walk.

But perhaps some part of me has been taking it ever since.

Quietly moving toward a place where I can finally stop looking over my shoulder.