I am in a dark tunnel, taking step after faltering step, and up ahead is a pinhead of light. A glimmer, pointing the way through, the way ahead. My steps are now purposeful, faster.
The pale pinprick changes to stark white brightness. Its warmth reaches into the last metres of the tunnel and hugs me. I take the final step out of the darkness and into the light.
The colours around me are crisp: greens and blues and browns and reds, shades of them all. My bare feet are tickled by the pebbles on the track. A butterfly dances past, as if to tell me that we are all alive and free.
I turn to look at the tunnel, behind me. Its darkness doesn’t threaten. I’ve made my way through. I’ve beaten the odds.
I am standing at the precipice, where dreams become reality.