A mid-way rock is where I fell upon. It was a hard fall that scratched my skin several times. Even now I can still look down into the abyss. And up into the surface.
I was not expecting to fall right here, not at all. It is dry as where I stood before.
A deep cold runs through me.
Where am I? The past stopped pushing over my back. Will I ever get back on the same road?
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