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Autumn

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The through-way North is a slow creep. So sluggish that only after a few dusk trips did I begin scanning my flanks for hidden alternatives. You see, this particular route is already my preferred alternative to freeway travel which had recently become unbearable during those typical congested hours.  However, the tirciary options seemed non-existent.

Just before reaching the point of no return a small break in the endless fence to my right came into view. Never would I have taken notice of the modest entry had I not been searching for it. I first wondered if the narrow rusted iron gate was intended for car travel. It seemed too large for pedestrians only. Likely horse and cart. To my delight the decorative doors were open as I could have been easily persuaded that they hadn’t been opened to public pass in a century. I began to distrust my eyes. Had I just seen them open as I approached? The other cars in front of me passed by as if it had not revealed its appearance to them.  Not a soul stood watch. Only a narrow paved road snaked off into the dark wooded cemetery. Had I found my new shortcut home?

Autumn Breaks