The Station, Part 59

Come to think of it, I have already completed more than half of the journey. I hadn’t realized it until long afterwards that my time in the cave actually comprised a good number of those tunnels. I can now recall that the Tunnels Tall and Round were all there, simple connected along a chain that was not nearly as obvious due to the combination of poor lighting and my then weakening condition. And with that new realization, I can only surmise that my time in this cold place is nearing its close, and when it does, I will be in sight of the Junction. And when I see this place, it will all but completely and undoubtedly confirm what I have known all along—there is intelligence at work here. And it has a purpose. I intend to find my answer there. And then I will find my way home.

A downward slope has begun. Subtle, yet it means I am finally nearing the end of this place. I can now make out what is now a most familiar sight: a wall. The details are not yet visible, but I am quite confident that I will find a wall full of many tunnel entrances, Tunnels Tall, Round and Wide. That will not daunt me I imagine. For when I take the last remaining steps, I will have already been told what tunnel is mine. The path of snow heads straight and true towards that wall. You see that I’m right.

The path made by my annelid-like guides leads directly to a particular Tunnel Round. And that is where it ends. Right in front of the entrance. I could have no better sign than that. But what of my mysterious friends? It’s like they just vanished. But really, all they must have done was burrow deeper down and gone on their way, the job completed. I give them my thanks in silence. But somehow, I know that the mere act of my following them was the real thanks they, or it, really wanted. And so while I stand here, pondering the next phase of this sojourn, I make a silent wish that on the other side of this dark passage, will indeed be the Junction. There I hope—no, I will—find the immense image last seen in my sleep lesson and discover the final path to…to....damn me. Never mind. I melt some snow in my hands, or paws if you prefer, and take one more drink before heading inside. It tastes clean, pure, and enlivens me a little more.

It’s almost ridiculously nostalgic. Only the last time I was inside I was a very different being. Confined to some kind of strange, awkward skin, breathing stale air, and leaving behind some sort of little bright things. I don’t no what they were for, but at the time they were very important to me. It all seems so unnecessary now. What things did I miss because I was too afraid to shed my unneeded artificial skin? What clues did I not pick up on that would have sent me on my way to freedom that much sooner? It’s of no real importance now. I am on my way out. The means of my salvation is les clear, but knowing of its existence is enough for me. My one true source of fuel.