A world without direction



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He ran through the forest, jumping over logs and dodging low hanging branches. He had never been here before. His entire world had been the city in which he lived, but now it was gone. A hollow echoing place of sorrow dominated the past, and even though he missed it, he knew some wonder distant from his past had filled him with joy. If he could just find his way back, he knew he could find happiness once again.

He paused and looked at the forest around him. He saw something he had never seen before. It was something beautiful. Something that made his heart break. It was a gate. It towered above him. It was old, and the wood had weathered from countless storms and earthquakes. It stood and mocked him with it's call, "Come in you fool! You won't find your way back in here!"

He wasn't sure what to do. He heard a voice, he's not sure where it came from, but he knew if he went through the gate he would meet this voice. He had no choice. He slowly approached the gate. Every step felt natural and right. The gate was new and bright, yet at the same time it was old, and worn. He wondered if it had always been this way, or if it was simply the result of his own perception of the thing.

He touched the gate for the first time. It was warm, and soft. It held a significant amount of power, and as he brushed against it, sparks flew from it's worn and faded surface. The voice came once more. It sounded like a crowd of angels all speaking at once. The sound was almost deafening, yet as he looked at the gate again, it had become a whisper. He grabbed the gate, and looked back at the world he lived in. He had no neighbors. No friends. No family. He missed those people more than he would think it possible to miss somebody.

He turned his back on the world he had come from, and passed through the gate. As he passed through, he noticed a small sign. It read "Part 16. A Magical Place Lost In a World Without Direction"

He felt a great weight leave him as he passed through the gate. He felt free, like a bird released from a cage for the first time. He saw a small dirt path. It led further into the forest, and in the distance he could see a shape. He began to run along the path. A feeling of childlike wonder had come over him. He wanted to know who made the path for him to walk on. As he ran, he changed. His face grew a beard, and his hair turned grey, yet his arms and legs were those of a young man. He felt no pain as he ran, and couldn't help smile. He was free.

The shape in the distance began to grow. He could see now that it was a cabin. It was made out of logs, and looked like it belonged to somebody's long dead grandfather from generations past. As he grew closer, he noticed something strange. The cabin looked like it had been abandoned for years, yet the logs didn't look weathered. They looked old, and new at the same time. Looking at the logs, it was as if thousands of years had passed over them, yet at the same time, they were still fresh and new.

He approached the cabin and heard a voice from inside the door. It said, "You can come in by the way. I'm a writer. I tend to get lost in my own work, and I forgot to open the door." The voice was the most beautiful sound this man had ever heard. It was like a dream. It spoke again, "This is a Part. I'm a writer. I tend to get lost in my own work, and I forgot to open the door."

He walked up to the door and went inside. As he stepped inside he noticed something peculiar about the room. The floor was dirt. The shack had only one room. It was made out of logs, and was incredibly cozy. There was a small bed to the right, and another door directly across from the one he had walked through.

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