There's no such thing as a calling, says the person who has been working nonstop for the past six years to get information out to people. There's no reprieve from this and now there are nightmares almost each night.
Not nightmares as much as long running stories that were lived and then forgotten. Last time was something about needing to set up a contest, but that description doesn't cover it and attempting to recreate that existence in the waking one only cuts the remaining memories to shreds that much quicker.
"If there's no calling, then why am I still doing this?"
He didn't have an answer but the work no longer seemed sustainable. Or interesting. He didn't have the energy required to make it happen in any sort of exciting way.
"Perhaps it's time to stop, or plan to stop," he asked himself.
That thought faded, replaced with another seconds later as he pretended to work as a way of avoiding a walk he had planned to take.
"I didn't want to be around anyone," he said, repeating a mantra that sang out often in these days of early spring.
All that could be done was to remember to breathe while he walked the pathway through danger, dangers only he could see.
So he took a breath and opted to put the work in, knowing one day another plan would come through if that's the way the program is written.
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