It was a dark, long road lit by only a subtle gleam of light—its source was nowhere to be seen. Everybody was walking towards the same direction, mumbling low, busying themselves.
“Hey, where are we going?” I asked.
Nobody answered, nor did they seem to hear.
I tugged the shirt of the one closest to me, repeating the same question.
He looked at me—while we kept on walking—before brushed me away and muttered, “So noisy.”
I reached another one next to me, asking the same question. The person snapped out of his seemingly-daydreaming state and replied, “If you don’t know, why are you keep walking?”
Then, that person went ahead, leaving me among another flock of people, with the question echoing in my head.
I stared out to the poorly lit path. I couldn’t see what’s at the end of the path. I didn’t know where were we heading, yet I still made another step forward.
“Because, unfortunately, time won’t stop for me,” I mused, once again became one with the crowd, hoping that the end path would soon be visible.