The Choice Road

Every day I must come this way. To this fork, this choice.

My father has told me, "Always go to the right, the left has danger." Every day I go right. Why? Why do I want to obey my father? Why do I take his word? And what kind of danger could there be?

I imagine myself on the road to the left. It is a short cut. I pass through shady groves where there is water and fruit. I pass by a friendly village where I am given food and juice. I get to my school ahead of the others and have a nice pleasant time under the tree and wait for my teacher, my classmates to come. I wait because they took the road to the right.

I imagine myself on the road to the left. It is a long, windy road that leads down into the under desert. It is hot and I must avoid the lizards and snakes until I get to the higher ground. There are trees around and I can smell the dung and stench of rotten flesh. It is lion country. I walk along in the high grass and grow scared that I will come upon the sleeping lions fat from their kill but still angry when they are surprised by me. I imagine running, trying to get through as fast as possible but suddenly I am frozen by the sound of the roar.

I take the path to the right.