you close the door behind you after another day of mining. as you look over the warm glow of your small shack and everything you’ve crafted from almost nothing, you begin to wonder if this is really home.
at night, you hear sounds of creatures groaning outside your abode, not human, but not quite monster. the familiar fear sets in, and you begin to wonder if this is really home.
there’s the music again. you don’t know where it comes from, but it plays every now and then like the voice of nature itself is speaking to you, calling to you through the breeze and the rippling waves. you begin to wonder if this is really home.
sitting on the edge of a cliff with your loyal canine next to you, it occurs to you how alone you really are in this unfamiliar world and all its terrain. as you gaze out over the sprawling plains, you begin to wonder if this is really home.
time is a concept only kept by the cycle of space around you. your clock reads late evening, and you know it’s time to go back to your cabin. you begin to wonder if this is really home.
you enter another dark cave, unsure of what you’ll find this time. the ambient sounds and subtle, yet eerie footsteps remind you of something else, something before. you begin to wonder if this is really home.
after all, this is what you’ve known for so long.
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