I wake on a mountain road with no memory of arriving and a traveler's bundle that feels almost empty.
A white dog catches my coat. One step ahead, the path ends at a cliff, yet a bridge appears inside the morning mist below.
Mira waits on the far side. She does not call me forward. 'The bridge remains only for someone who actually chooses,' she says.
The village gate is closing behind me. I can begin, but I can also learn what I am carrying before I step.