Wesley woke and dressed for his morning walk. His daily routine since purchasing his home in the country. The smell of the grass, the flowers, the rain fresh countryside invigorated him and prepared him for his day.
Today, he chose not to follow his usual path, but rather to explore the field on the far side of his property. One of the reasons he purchased the land. The further he walked into his field, he passed several small flowers and plants that he did not recognize.
Was that a signpost? In the center of his field? What in the world? A scarecrow he could understand, but a signpost? He needed to get a closer look. As he approached, he heard, “Choose wisely.”
Wesley spun around looking to see where the voice came from but saw nothing. “I must be imagining it.” He shook his head. As he neared the sign, again he heard, “Choose wisely. Your choice cannot be changed.”
He looked around, but still saw no one. “This is absurd.” The signpost had four direction arrows on it, and scratched into each, success, happiness, wealth, and unknown.
The same deep voice spoke again. “Choose your path wisely, you cannot turn back. The path you choose will determine your fate.”
Wesley froze. What choice did he have? Whatever way he moved; he would make a choice. He’d heard the folklore surrounding the sign of life, but never thought it was real. And he wasn’t sure that it truly was. Even as he heard the voice speaking to him.
Wesley just stood there. Staring at the post.
Wesley couldn’t move. Success. Happiness. Wealth. Unknown.
The skies darkened and lightening flashed. Black clouds rolled in above him and the poured down. The voice roared. “Choose or suffer the consequences.”
Wesley stared at the post. Lightning flashed again and thunder boomed, shaking the ground. He spun to his left choosing the path of the unknown.
This story is prompted by Sue Vincent’s Daily Echo Thursday photo prompt: #writephoto.
Stop over and give it a try. You might be surprised at what you can compose.
Leave a comment. I’d love to hear from you.
I want this to be a novel. I’d have chosen happiness, but I tend to play things safe. What did Wesley get himself into?