Tired eyes...

...of a weary traveler

Tired eyes play ticks on us once again. Shifting pictures in the red reflections ahead draw our attention from the matters at hand, and we lose our focus for the moment. Watching as the pictures dance across the scene, mystifying onlookers as to what they really are. The magic is intriguing, but we cannot stop concentrating, for that could lead to a change in our path, where danger could lie.

We see the rats are running again, jammed to the side as they do. Why do the rodents not realise that they could run faster if they were spread out. Or do they not want to finish the race, content in blaming the other rats for their failure.

As they dart around us, we pray that they do not touch, for a single tap could cause others to panic and envelop us, spelling our death without question. With so many foolish rats around us, the tiniest slip could disrupt the fragile, fragile harmony within which they exist and we are traveling. Such a disruption would end the race for them all.

We hope that we do not stay here long enough to become one of them. We must stay attentive and watch our sides to ensure that we are protected. Protected not from the rats though, but from ourselves, for the start of the change lies within us, not them.

Tired eyes come back into focus as we leave this race to start another. We can only wonder what tricks they will play on us on the way to work tomorrow.