An old friend waits beyond these gates.

The world is calm and steady as the slate-grey sky waits to see what I’ll do next. I step forward and the crunch of gravel is the beginning of the Apocalypse; or, perhaps, the beginning of my new life. Either way, it is both terrifying and exhilarating.

Crunch. Crunch. Surely my boots are breaking the ground, my very presence is the straw that breaks the camel’s back. But no shouts meet me at my arrival; no guards, save for my own, await me at this portal to what comes next.

My hand is now in front of me; clumsy, a shy child being introduced to a new acquaintance as it meets the cold metal.

I push ever so slightly, and I am hurtled into ever after.

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