The Yellow Way
By Kate Everson
Copyright 2012 Kate Everson
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It’s a long way home.
That’s all I know for sure. I keep walking and walking. Sometimes I stop and take a break, a rest for my weary soul and soles. The yellow trees cascade over me like a waterfall in this godly place, but I can only feel their embrace. I want to see it to the end.
There was no other way home. I had tried various methods, but all fell flat, dead in the water, shot out of the sky. This was the One True Way, the Yellow Way, they called it, those who knew.
“Take this,” they said. “This will get you home.”
I had swallowed it whole, like Alice taking the magic pill to make her small or tall. I had gulped it down eagerly, too eagerly, as if it were my last chance at survival in this weary world. Indeed it was.
Today is my last day on the road. I feel that now. It has been a long journey, but now I am getting closer, so close I know it in my bones.
My bones cry out, “Stop! Go back!”
But I know it’s a ruse, a clever trick to get me to give up and go home.
“But I am going home!” I tell them, “Them,” those ones that give me false leads.
For I know there is only one way for me and I am taking it. Now. Finally.