Limbo

Where am I?

 Maybe I’ve misplaced the arrow on my oversized map because all that I seem to see is a path right left forward and backward. And of course the ominous phrase. “You Are Here” right smack dap in the middle.

There arn’t any visible indications as to where the paths lead.

How do I choose which to take?

I turn to the right. One step, two. What greets me is crude and vulgar, yet irresistibly intriguing. I prepare to take a third in when the left beckons.

I take a step left. Then another. What greats me is numb. Lethargic. Mediocrity. It sighs to me about the wonders of settling and about draws me in.

Then I hear my mama’s voice. It calls from the behind.

I spin round and are welcomed by childhood comforts. She sings to me, and begs me to stay. I take a step in further. I wish to stay.

My father calls from the opposite. He calls and speaks about agency. Freedom. Adulthood. Responsibilities. About growing up. That’s where I want to be. I try to enter. But something blocks me holding me in this limbo.

How long will I be suspended here?

I wait impatiently for the arrow.

You are here.

But,

Where am I?