Home isn’t always sweet

I walked pass the oak trees symmetrically lined at both ends of the road.

The road hasn’t changed much, just the trees have grown more branches.

It was the same route I walked on my way out, and going back wasn’t difficult.

At the middle of the road is a twin oak tree, whose branches have created a shed.

I sat there for a while, just like I did the first time I walked the road.

But the feeling was different; I didn’t feel like going back in.

Going back in time is like watching a dead football match;

No tension, no dilemma, and you obviously know what the outcome is.

I spent half of the day sitting under the twin oak tree with an ironic sense of calm… thinking.

As I reached where I was not supposed to be, I hoped that I don’t stay there for long.

I didn’t like the space, but I was in no hurry to return… just like I feared.

It was night fall by this time, and I was returning; done with what I wasn’t supposed to do.

The road’s visibility by this time was poor; and the chirping sounds of birds wasn’t any helpful.

The road had become longer than it was, or so it seemed, or so my tensed legs felt.

But I managed to walk on at varying strides, and when I got to the twin oak tree… I ran.

In the Labyrinth of reincarnation, it is good to be born again, but not through the front bottom.


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