(c) Copywrite 2004
����������� You search deep into the black space that surrounds you for something, anything, that gives it all some sense of purpose. Alas, all you see is the deepening emptiness stretching to what must be the edge of your vision. Even through the glass at your feet you peer into the absence.
����������� It is not warm at all in this place, nor is it cool. You cannot feel any noticeable temperature at all. You are amazed as you slowly pace forward, that you can still draw in breaths. You could almost swear that the very air of this strange existence was as empty as the space surrounding you and your path.
����������� Still you continue on, driven by whatever reason you have chosen. You do know that there is a reason, but can't bring yourself to remember what it was. It was so long ago when you thought of it, way back when you first started walking.
����������� Panic grips you as you retrace your memories, trying desperately to find that initial moment--that first step--when you decided to seek the end of this long course. The memory eludes you and you imagination takes over. "Perhaps I have always been walking this glass path? Maybe it is all I have ever done."
����������� Mildly disturbed by this terrifying possibility, you pause for a moment and force your imagination silent. "There must be a reason" you scream in your head. Anger begins to swell inside you, and you shut your eyes. You suppress it somehow and after opening your eyes you continue walking.
����������� A while passes, and you catch yourself once again staring at your feet as you progress forward. Each step lands silently on the crystal clear walkway that keeps you from plummeting into the nothing beneath and all around you. The path ahead stretches as long as it ever has.
����������� You are not hungry; though you can't remember the last time you ate. You don?t feel tired either, despite the countless seconds, hours, years, lifetimes and instances you have been walking.
����������� Once again, the question returns to you: "Why do I continue to walk?" All of the regular debates arise as they always do. You have no idea how far you have come, and even less idea how far you have to go. You don't even know if you have traveled half of the total distance.
����������� "I could always turn back" you think. The idea has tempted you a great many times in the past. But you never have. You have always moved forward. You cannot turn back.
����������� Should you run? It has been so long since you started, and you are not the least bit fatigued. You could sprint with all your strength until at last you come to the end. It all makes sense, and you see no reason not to. Still... you walk.
����������� You close your eyes as you walk. It's nothing really special. The blackness of this place is the same as the blackness of your sightless eyes. You are certain you won't fall off the glass. You are certain.
����������� At last you open your eyes and stop. The darkness around you has not changed. It still wraps around every possible direction you can gaze. You look down now at your feet, and find that you have come to the end of the path. The glass has stopped, and you are now at its edge.
����������� Peering forward, the emptiness seems overwhelming. You have come to the end. You feel as though you should somehow rejoice. All of the endless time spent to reach this very spot has come to an end, and you are now at the conclusion of your walk.
����������� The joy does not even begin. It is invisible, and you remain still, gazing into nothing. If you take one more step, you will leave the glass and fall into the unknown.
����������� There is no reason to go forward anymore. There never was, but you did anyway. Now, however, you simple can not move forward. It is time to turn back.
����������� You circle the spot you spent what could have been forever standing on looking at the edge, and find another edge. The path you have walked is gone. You are suspended now only by a single square piece of floating glass.
����������� Yet again you do not react. The path was there, and now it is gone. Terror surrounds you, but you do not give in to it.
����������� You finally feel the obligation to sit. You feel that this all needs to be thought about. Perhaps if you try hard enough, some kind of solution will become apparent. The silence of this place makes it easy for you to gather your thoughts.
����������� First, you try to reason out why the path had disappeared. You had never looked back during all the time you had been walking down it. Had it slowly been dissolving into nothing as you progressed? If so, why had it not dropped you into blackness all of the times you had paused for whatever reason?
����������� The disturbing thought of your single purpose being only to reach this very spot and remain here tries to penetrate your consciousness and engulf you in rage, but you resist it. You cannot give in to it.
����������� Finally, you stand up and once again open your eyes. The path ahead of you still remains halted abruptly, but the path you have already traveled extends once again indefinitely ahead of you.
����������� For a period of time you haven't yet decided on, you simply don't move. All you can do is stare straight ahead of you, and wonder if it is essential to take that first step. You cannot go back, for you will fall. You can only move forward.
