They linger at the threshold, unseen, watching.

Are they moving?

They shift, but movement is not linear. It bends, it folds. It is not always visible.

But do they see where they stand? Do they know what surrounds them?

They glimpse fragments, but the whole remains obscured. Some truths cannot be grasped all at once.

And their thoughts? Are they steady? Or do they waver?

They ask questions, but the answers shift before they are held. They reach, but what they seek reshapes in their hands.

Then are they lost?

No. But they are not found, either.

Do they feel the pull? The forces that call them forward?

They feel everything. But knowing what to follow—that is the weight they bear.

Are they afraid?

Fear is not the right word. They hesitate. They consider. They exist in the pause before motion.

And if they remain there too long?

Then time will carry them forward, whether they choose or not.

They do not know this, do they?

Not yet. But they will.