The Darkened Tunnel :: Personal Narrative Writing

The Darkened cut into En route of my journey from root to my destination I came crosswise something that caught my attention. A hole intruding into the look of a hill beck whizd me to investigate. oddity drew me to the mouth of the tunnel where I was overcome by a dank odor. It wasnt the most inviting of places, cover walkway leading into the phantom unknown and a large sewerage extruding rainwater from somewhere at heart it. I stepped to the thresh experient to see what pose within. An old shopping drag on sat in the gutter on its side shrouded by an old tarp. The scrawling on the w totally revealed to me that I was not the first one here. feeling into the tunnel I could see it exposit into darkness. Like looking into infinity, on that point was no end in sight. Who is to presuppose what could be inside peradventure a friend, peradventure an enemy, maybe knowledge, maybe love, maybe death, maybe nothing. The still light shown from the world outside, the world I knew. There I stood, on the threshold between light and dark, one world and the next, the familiar and the unknown. My rareness was almost unbearable Confronted by the determination of whether or not to explore this tunnel, I couldnt help yet to ponder the importance of filling itself. What difference does this election make? spirit is choice, a long series of conclusions made exclusively by the individualist. We all have the power to decide the course of our own lives through the choices we make, every instant of every waking day. Think about the people you know, the clothes you wear or the intellectual nourishment you eat, its all a emergence of your individual choice. Every decision we make is linked to another minute of arc in the course of life, be it signifi stubt or not, we may never know how important our individual choices really are. Examples of these life changing decisions can be seen everywhere, in any choice we make. The choice tha t my parents made to image the same formal, in midst America, where they met that one night in 1968, allowed for my population today. So if it werent for that choice I wouldnt even be choosing my words.The Darkened Tunnel Personal Narrative WritingThe Darkened Tunnel En route of my journey from home to my destination I came across something that caught my attention. A hole intruding into the side of a hill beckoned me to investigate. Curiosity drew me to the mouth of the tunnel where I was overcome by a dank odor. It wasnt the most inviting of places, concrete walkway leading into the dark unknown and a large gutter extruding rainwater from somewhere within it. I stepped to the threshold to see what lay within. An old shopping cart sat in the gutter on its side shrouded by an old tarp. The scrawling on the wall revealed to me that I was not the first one here. Looking into the tunnel I could see it extend into darkness. Like looking into infinity, there was no end in sight. Who is to say what could be inside maybe a friend, maybe an enemy, maybe knowledge, maybe love, maybe death, maybe nothing. The only light shown from the world outside, the world I knew. There I stood, on the threshold between light and dark, one world and the next, the familiar and the unknown. My curiosity was almost unbearable Confronted by the decision of whether or not to explore this tunnel, I couldnt help but to ponder the importance of choice itself. What difference does this choice make? Life is choice, a long series of decisions made exclusively by the individual. We all have the power to determine the course of our own lives through the choices we make, every instant of every waking day. Think about the people you know, the clothes you wear or the food you eat, its all a matter of your individual choice. Every decision we make is linked to another moment in the course of life, be it significant or not, we may never know how important our individual choices really are. Examples of these life changing decisions can be seen everywhere, in any choice we make. The choice that my parents made to attend the same formal, in Middle America, where they met that one night in 1968, allowed for my existence today. So if it werent for that choice I wouldnt even be choosing my words.