……over the edge

Growing up is about finding one’s personal road.

There is no road in childhood, simply a space, a field perhaps, containing objects between which a child skips backward and forward.

Then grass turns to a dirt track, then surfaced road and then for some even a motorway.

Some can see where their road touches the horizon, their lives mapped out in front of them. Another’s road may twist and turn and only the next hour is the extent of navigation.

Such people do like to speed on these swerving roads,despite the danger, perhaps because of the danger, for the rush?

Some people never take a step on the road ahead, just stand and look. Others do begin but soon come to a halt. Another group turn back and try to regain their childhood field.

Some adults despite no impairment at all, will never leave the space of their youngest years and even laugh at the prospect of leaving at all.