I am standing in the middle of a narrow path. The path reminds me of a dusty, country road. I can smell the fresh musty earth. Behind me I see a shining and dark steel building. I feel the cold sterile air on my back. I see the white walls of a room, with it's cold metal. I know intimately the silent corridors of the steel building. I see my reflection in the cold glass. My heart is pounding. A

I sense that to turn around and move back toward the steep building will cause my heart to crack. I will become hard, cold, gray metal. I will be forever frozen in the sterile white room.

I begin walking down the dirt path. I come to a mystical valley bathed in delicate light, surrounded by a forest of firs, so thick that in some places the sun...