[ WP ] Walking along a bridge of petrified wood , following another .

Every step taken was one of hope. It was the exact opposite of dark, blinding. Looking merely inches from his highly drawn cheeks and crinkled brow, nothing seemed certain. The petrified wood was to lie comfortably under his sole for some time before his small spurts of courage balanced him onto another. The duration of this journey held no stopwatch. For if in an instant someone theorized an average to cross this bridge, that number would be thrown out the instant another attempt began. Men successful in the trek were awarded with a lifetime of decoration and acknowledgement, but those who failed were never deemed men at all. His dreams now mimicked a compilation of every dream. To one day make a living doing what he loved without ever having another petrified `` would?'' just under his soul.
