“Where am I?” the traveler asked. Decrepit railroad tracks stretched outward as far as he could see, the only object he could make out in the heavy mist. 

“You are lost,” God replied.

The traveler turned, disbelief and panic fighting through his mental haze. Hundreds of questions tugged at his consciousness, yet he went with the simplest and most applicable. “Why am I lost? Just a few moments ago, I was wishing my wife goodbye…” His voice trailed off, bunching in his throat. 

“How do I get back?” he asked instead. 

God studied the traveler. “Where do you want to go?” He asked. 

“Just to see my wife and kids again,” the traveler choked, clenching his eyes closed. “I want to tell them I love them again before I…go.”

The sound of sirens interrupted his tearful musings, and the first thing he saw was the creeping traffic, edging on past the scene of an accident. A woman’s inconsolable wails broke his heart, and the traveler turned to see his own dead body, being lifted on a stretcher into an ambulance. Merida clutched his body’s arm, tears wreaking havoc on her beautiful face. “I love you,” her whispered voice carried. 

“No,” the traveler cried in disbelief. “Merida! Don’t cry! I’m here.”

She looked up, and her eyes fell upon him as if in understanding. “I love you,” the traveler said, rushing towards her. Merida’s eyes fell away again at the same moment as he crashed through her, open arms slamming against the concrete road divider.

Shock and dismay broke his heart, and the strongest pain he had ever experienced in his life tore him apart piece by piece. To see the love of his life in such distress, yet to be unable to comfort her was too much for him to bear. 

“Send me somewhere else,” the traveler sobbed, praying that God would hear his words. “I can’t bear it.” 

He opened his eyes and found himself at the newspaper’s printing press, but the roars were too loud. In the midst of a tranquil forest, he found no peace, and standing on an ocean’s dock brought no sense of wonder. For hours he marched through the sands of the Sahara, before viewing the majesty of Mount Everest. The traveler found himself in a giant maze, but he stopped in the middle, crouching on the hay-tossed ground. 

“I’m lost,” the traveler murmured, looking around. Tears slipped loosely down his cheeks, and he clutched his arms protectively around his chest. 

He could feel his body shifting, gaining solid form once more, and the traveler opened his eyes. The familiar train tracks brought him to his knees, and he sobbed for all that he had lost and for what he left unfinished. “I’m lost,” he repeated to God. 

“Only when you are lost do you find your way,” God said, gesturing down the train tracks. 

Though he cried and could scarcely see, the traveler decided to give purpose a second chance, and he crawled towards the horizon. Only when he was a distant blur did his figure find its feet, stepping forward and disappearing into the mist. 

(The title was inspired by Thalassa Brytaye's poem, "Purpose Found." Be sure to go check it out!)