Anything Goes : Another Year, Another Chance. by Christopher Hart

What have I learned? What have I done? Seems the deep shadows of my creative mind has lighten in contrast. The soft edges begun to hide the truth on my path. The breath of the cold reminded me that another year has past. Nicotine, tar, and cyanide still follow close behind. I found a split in the road, on the left, tall green trees hide the clouds, the possibilities of dreams; and on the right, a desert with a piercing heat. The dried soil, seems to ignore the river running through it. I turned around, not wanting to face my future. "Who are you?" A man stood in the distance. I couldn't make him out, but his voice seemed familiar. I shielded my eyes from a flare from the horizon. "I don't know anymore," I replied. I was wearing a pair of old blue jeans with a tear in the rear. My white sneakers were covered in dirt, and my black shirt still had deodorant stains that never washed out. The flare dissipates, and the man was gone. I thought maybe I was hallucinating, I turned around to face my path, and I stood before me. "I'll go one way, and then you go the other," he said. He took to the path of the forest, where the sky seemed uncertain. I took the path of the desert, knowing there was water to quench my thirst.