Write a new post in response to today’s one-word prompt.
Jutting rocks pave rarely trodden roads. Walking into an unknown future is tricky. We are twisted into ideas and forms that take us barefoot across the sharp stones and even sharper destinies. But even destiny is an unformed notion. There is something ahead that may or may not be what should have been. It is tricky, this knowing, or not knowing. Speculative. Mysterious. It is the road forward into lazy villages where busy roads are sometimes made for bare feet but mostly for feet covered in stretched animal skins; tricky roads that have requited love and blind hate standing on their backs. The rocky roads are heavy with the weight of history walking to and fro across their life force. They exist untamed, the roads, charted and uncharted, remembering human souls soaked in memories they can never erase. The feet deliver the words. The road receives them. The stones crumble with the passage of time. They remember distant voices that carve thoughts into them. They are scarred and pained by the stories. But they remember it all, even though memory is tricky. They remember every word.