Uphill and on a slope I travel the diameter of my vital circle. It seemed the best way to follow that straight line unobstructed so straight and perfect point by point projected forward yes a slight descent yes a slope so gentle not steep at all nor rough or suspended the High road of hope the master pathway the chronology that fears deviance at some point I quit that journey time curved and revealed the mirage in a pool of water I reflected my face I saw myself dirty and muddy from rain I saw that the mystery had long absconded that the straight line had been a dead end an illusion a dream distant and faded.