chapt. 13
Bk. 3
I walked outside while it continued to snow. The snow was deep and fresh.
I looked around and saw that the only prints around were mine.
How much easier it was to just walk into a path already made; worn out it was. But I've chosen the harder path where I've made my own prints, tripping and stumbling in an effort to reach my destination.
It's lonely, too.
Other paths are straight. they go one way and end. Mine goes with my heart, and twists and turns with it's motions. It's unlimited.
I don't need anyone to follow. I'll take the road no one has chosen. I'll walk the path less walked, where ever it goes.
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