The Cost of Freedom

Published on Sep 12th, 2010 by

Imagine you’re in a forest. The trees, tall and full, whisper tales of the evening. Wild flowers are sprinkled across the luscious carpet of grass. It is summer. The sun’s rays shine through the boughs, gradually thinning to fine points as it sets, the sky ablaze with fire. Erratic birdsong punctuates the air, moments of choral bliss between nature’s silence. You are barefoot. Each footstep leaves no imprint, the grass springing back up behind you to cover your trail. There is no discernible entrance to the clearing. You are just here, and the arrival or departure is of no consequence.

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