I stepped onto a gnarly path to nowhere — like being swallowed by the valley of death, its briars and brambles cut and sliced and tore my shadow as we passed through the narrow walls where barbed branches grabbed my clothes with their spiky claws, and scratched at my skin as I hurried along trying not to lose sight of my shadow.
A chilled wind bit the skin on my face, while the sun felt like the fires from hell licking at my back. The path cleared from time to time only to be swallowed up again. I could see my shadow stretched out a little longer with each clearing before it got chopped up again in the undergrowth.
I tripped and stumbled on roots and branches growing into the path, which seemed to narrow into a dark tunnel with each twist and turn. Then, as quickly as we were covered in shadowy gloom, light burst forth as the trail opened up, and I found myself standing on the edge of the river.
I stood still and looked at the water, trying to focus, feeling free for the moment from the oppressive overgrowth, and my unrelenting shadow — had the path finely come to an end? After my eyes adjusted to the light, I looked up to see the moon rising over the mountains.
After watching to moon rise for some time, I slowly turned to the right to see the sun behind cattails towering over me. I turned slowly to my left and there was my shadow, waiting, looking like a straw man, on a gnarly path that ran along side the river and disappeared to nowhere, somewhere over the horizon.