Choices

Opening his eyes, Adam discovered himself standing in the middle of a crossroads. He wasn't sure how he arrived there, and come to think of it, he was never sure about that particular aspect of the trip. But he instinctively knew he could look forward, look to his left, look to his right, or swivel around and look behind him. There was nothing to see anyway, except an expansive gray void of eerie mist and the same narrow paths of travel under his feet. There was light, of course, yet it didn't emanate from any one source, and strangely enough, he wasn't casting a shadow. Peering down at his feet, astonishment registered, for again, there was nothing to see. He could wiggle his toes, but saw nothing move. He could feel the smooth, silky white surface under his callused soles, but his feet just weren't there. A quick check revealed the rest of his body was in the same condition. A null body in a gray world of four directions. This lack of physical substance was something new, but the silence was the same. A total silence, an ominous silence, a silence as quiet as death itself. Even the clutter within was silent, those voices of reason that always spoke their mind, those voices of frustration that screamed their silent cry, those voices of memory that scorned and relished. Thousands of voices, with a life all their own, never gaining anything except his attention.