She stood, considering.
And everything living drew away.
And the grass itself shrank from her feet.
And the sky might have darkened but she wouldn't have known
As she stood.
A world apart stretched before and ominous and promising and
unprecedented. Rooted to the ground she knew she stood. There was much to consider.
Regardless of what she chose she was choosing. And either choice was hers to make and either choice she was choosing and whether she chose
or not
she had a choice.
Did it matter what she chose or did it matter that she chose?
Maybe she was chosen.
The sky rumbled overhead and whether it was predestined or not
she looked --
Just ahead, the choice. Just behind: choice.
Is it still a choice if one has to choose?
In a lightning flash she chose to reach and she reached through the dark and the unknown and she reached for Knowledge in a world apart in a world her own in a world for Knowledge and she chose it.
And He followed her anyway.
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