After The World I Knew

Where the World Fell Away There came a day when the world could no longer hold its shape. The mountains withdrew, the heavens opened, and all that had been certain gave way to distance. He carried no answer, no map of what remained, only the weight of having lived among things that could not last. Behind him, the world was still falling. Before him, the light made no promises. And yet he walked. Not because he knew where the passage led, nor because he had ceased to love what lay behind. But because something in the breaking of the world had made room for a step he could not otherwise have taken. And the light, which had never asked to be believed, received him.