The Bridge to Beyond

I ended up here without any purpose at all...

Driven by the sheer desire to leave my current life behind, I fled the city, seeking somewhere far away.
Suddenly, everything in my life became unbearable.

Life trudges on, indifferent to one's wishes. Though not everything went as planned, luck might have played its part. I managed to carve out a moderately comfortable life.
If asked whether I was unhappy, I would likely say no.
After all, I have no idea how one measures "happiness" or "unhappiness."
There were times when grief overtook me, but they were rare. For the most part, I had lived my life with a smile.

The essence of "fine dining" is hunger. Without hunger, even the most exquisite meal loses its meaning.

I had a family, a home. I had a job, friends, colleagues, ambitions, goals, and dreams. There were times when I was content simply filling the gaps in my life.

"Where are you going?" my wife asked as I was leaving the house.
"Somewhere far away... for a while," I replied.
"Will you come back?"
"Who knows... I can't say for sure."
She smiled, perhaps thinking I was joking as usual.

I took my usual commuter train to Central East Station. From there, I transferred to a northbound express train, aiming to cross the northern mountain range.

How many hours had passed? After traversing several long tunnels and cutting through the vast mountains dividing north and south, the train pressed on through the northern basin, heading further north.
Perhaps it was the elevation, but the colors of the scenery faded into soft, monochromatic tones.

Around noon, I think, a train vendor came by, but oddly, I felt no hunger. My throat was parched, so I bought a warm tea to quench it.

The train eventually reached its terminus at Central East Station, on the northern edge of the basin.
From there, I boarded a bus heading deep into the northern mountains.

The bus left the station with about a third of its seats occupied. But as we ventured further into the mountains, passengers alighted one by one.

The bus climbed higher and higher, following a road along a deep ravine. Eventually, I was the only passenger left.

Peering down into the ravine, I saw mist rising, likely due to the temperature difference, obscuring its depths.

"Thank you for riding with us today. We are approaching the final stop: East Depot," the onboard announcement declared, meant solely for me.

The bus stopped just before the depot.
"Thank you," I said to the driver as I got off.
"Please take care," he replied with a kind smile.

It was already evening, and the mist enveloping the ravine grew denser, shrouding the surroundings in haze.

Beyond the depot, the mountain path continued. Without hesitation, I followed the gentle incline ahead.

The path stretched endlessly, vanishing into the mist ahead. Despite the lack of visibility, night never seemed to fall.

Eventually, a suspension bridge appeared to my right, barely visible through the mist. The bridge extended into the haze, its far end obscured.
A sign on the sturdy right pillar read: The Bridge to Beyond.

Should I cross this bridge, or should I continue along the mountain path?
I paused to deliberate.

Turning back toward the mountain slope, I noticed an ancient stone stairway leading into the mist.
A weathered stone pillar at the base bore the inscription: East Temple.

I decided to visit the temple first.

Climbing the 40 or 50 steps, I arrived at a small temple ground.
Through the mist, a modest main hall loomed faintly ahead. The sound of a bamboo broom echoed in the stillness.

As I approached, I saw an elderly man in work clothes, presumably the temple's priest, sweeping the ground methodically.

"Hello, may I ask you something?" I called out.
"Hello there. What is it?" His voice was calm and kind.
"Where does that suspension bridge lead?"
"To the western side of the ravine, I believe."
"And what's over there?"
"Couldn't say. My duties are on this side, so I've never crossed it. Sorry I can't be of more help," he said with a gentle smile.

"No, thank you anyway."
"You're welcome," he replied, resuming his sweeping.

Resolving to cross the suspension bridge, I ventured forth.

The bridge swayed little, as there was no wind.
On the other side, the path continued along the ravine.

Nearby, another stone stairway led uphill. A stone pillar here read: West Temple.
From above, the faint sound of a bamboo broom reached my ears. I decided to climb the steps.

At the top, I found a temple ground much like the one on the eastern side.
An elderly man, similar in appearance, was sweeping the ground in silence.
I chose not to disturb him and quietly descended back to the path.

I continued down the western mountain path.

As I descended, the thick mist gradually thinned.

Strangely, despite the time, it felt like morning, with the air fresh and bright.

After walking for who knows how long, I came across a bus depot carved into the mountainside.
A bus, engine idling, awaited at the stop marked: West Depot – West Central Station.

I boarded, finding myself the sole passenger.

The bus descended the ravine, picking up more passengers at stops along the way―students in uniforms, workers with briefcases.
By the time we reached West Central Station, the seats were half-filled.

The station resembled East Central, but the morning rush was unmistakable.

Without hesitation, I boarded an unfamiliar express train bound for Central West Station.

After passing through tunnels and traversing the basin, the train arrived.

Central West Station bore an uncanny resemblance to Central East Station, yet something felt different.

Suppressing my unease, I boarded a commuter train, following the usual route home.

I returned to a house eerily similar to mine, nestled on a hillside.
The evening sky glowed with a setting sun.

A wife, subtly different from my own, greeted me at the door.

"Oh, welcome back," she said playfully. "See? You came back after all."
"I'm home... Did I truly make it back?"
"What? Did you not want to?"
"Yes, but… it's not that... It's just... I thought I chose a different path."
"Whatever path you take, you're you, I'm me, and this is our home. That's enough for me. Now, let's have dinner. Why don't you go take a quick shower first? You're hungry, aren't you?"
"O...Yes... I’ll take a quick shower first."
"Good. And hey..."
"Yes?"
"Are you going out again tomorrow?"
"...No, I think I'll stay for a while."
"Hmm...that's good."

She smiled radiantly, her face filled with relief.

The End.