An underground tunnel winds. Everyone comes to Lost from above in the woods where they explored without maps. They were new at the job. They defended on a slow incline or fell suddenly into a hole and awoke topsy turvy in narrow soil filled passageways. Lost pulses with life. The tunnels expand and contract to accommodate the size of those who stumble in. Some leave, most do not. The denizens of Lost are caterpillars who hatch into iridescent moths. Oft mistaken for fairies, they provide the only light.
“You’ll never find your way out,” they whisper.
They eat hallucinogenic fungus. Many varieties grow in the moist tunnels.
People wander through the endless winding tunnels of Lost. The caterpillars and moths know where the passageways up to the light are. They simply mind their own business and do not bother to show anyone the way.
"Why would anyone wish to go out?" they mutter. They don’t understand and do not try to.
Relatable — I used this word in my reviews of Depression Hates a Moving Target by Nita Sweeney on Goodreads and Amazon . It's a nice word, but overused of late. So, it feels lazy. What do I mean? I connected with this book. It made me reflect more on my own first marathon experience. It made me want to put on my running shoes and head out the door again. In fact, I did. Now, typically, my mental health doesn't hinder my ability to do the stuff I want to do and my body flies under the radar. Still, I also felt goofy stepping out in my running gear a lot of the time. I didn't see myself as a "runner" or an athlete. And, I had no idea if I could run 13 miles let alone 26.2 when I started. More to the point, could I stay moving for the 4+ hours straight it would take to complete the marathon? To do the training mileage, I knew I'd have to run through streets and trails on my own and that made me nervous, too. Waves of grief wash us to strange shores. Whe...
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