Journey in Hope

           Themorningwasinfectedwithminormishaps.Firstitwaswaterinthecarburetor.ThenIcontrivedtotraveladozenmilesnorthundertheimpressionIwasgoingeast,andbeforeIhadthatfullyrectifiedIwasintroublewiththeignitionsystemonableakuplandroadmilesfromanywhere.EitherthesedelaysoranaturalreactiondidalottospoilthehopefulmoodinwhichIhadstarted.BythetimeIhadthetroublestraightenedout,itwasoneo’clockandthedaybadcleared"p.

           Thesuncameout.Everythinglookedbrightandrefreshed,buteventhat,andthefactthatforthenexttwentymileseverythingwentsmoothly,didnotshiftthemoodofdepressionthatwasclosingovermeagain.NowIwasreallyonmyown,Icouldnotshutoutthesenseofloneliness.ItcameuponmeasitbadonthatdaywhenwebadsplituptosearchforMichaelBeadley—onlywithdoubletheforce...UntilthenIhadalwaysthoughtoflonelinessassomethingnegative—anabsenceofcompany,and,ofcourse,somethingtemporary.

           ...ThatdayIhadlearnedthatitwasmuchmore.Itwassomethingwhichcouldpressandoppress,coulddistorttheordinaryandplaytrickswiththemind.Somethingwhichlurkedinimicallynilaround,stretchingthenervesandtwang-bigthemwithalarms,neverlettingoneforgetthattherewasnoonetohelp,noonetocare.Itshowedoneasanatomadriftinvastness,anditwaitedallthetimeitschancetofrightenandfrightenhorribly—thatwaswhatlonelinesswasreallytryingtodo;andthatwaswhatonemustneverletitdo..