He sat in his car, staring at the crossroad ahead. This was the furthest he’d ever gone before. Every time he threatened to leave, he would barely make it out of the front door, let alone all the way to his car. But this time he did, this time he left.
He didn’t know what had come over him, or where he’d gotten the strength from. But all he knew was that he was strong enough to leave, strong enough to walk out of the door, get into his car and drive. And that’s what he did.
He’d been driving for 2 hours now, following the road wherever it took him. Never stopping to ask for direction. Until now, until the crossroads. He didn’t know which direction to go. Whether to keep going or to turn or maybe even go back.
He had spent so long fantasising about leaving, he didn’t really think about the reality of it. He didn’t think about where he’d go. He didn’t think about the getting supplies for the journey ahead. He didn’t think about direction.
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