This was also my response to Curtis Bausse’s Pic’n’Post Challenge
The story-teller’s picture:
It’s always the same dream. He’s alone, walking down a long railroad. Blossoming, spaced out trees on the right, settled under a black sky streaked with lightning. A dark, dense forest on the left, settled under a clear, bright sky. The road would split in two then, calling for a decision. He would stop walking and just stand there, trying to read the worn out words on the direction pole. That’s when he would hear it. The voice crying out to him.
The picture-taker’s story:
While waiting for a long light to turn green, I entertained myself with taking in the world around me (and listening to the radio). The direction pole beside an untroubled railroad was one of the sights my gaze feasted on.