Dilemma Challenges
Dilemma challenges require a character to make a moral choice that affects the narrative. The “Art of the Possible” is a string of personal and political dilemmas. The protagonist, Clara, has a cascading set of values, advocating for the environment, believing a promise is a contract with her people, and principles before populism. Even so, she learns that being right or staying true isn’t always enough.
Art of the Possible
Port Spindrift, 1995
Hi There, I’m Clara
I live in a high-density part of town. Not much land, and what there is, the developers circle like vultures. Construction is eating away the park near my apartment. It shouldn’t be like this.
Parks are for people. That’s my campaign slogan. Hi there. I’m Clara, and running for city council.
Clara Phi, raised on principles,
accepts life’s cold, hard facts.
Be accountable for what you do.
Treat a promise as a contract.
In college, she likes to debate
and runs for student council.
Exploring various problems,
with a talent for those political.
Then, setting out on her own,
a home-grown news reporter,
she aims to bring integrity
or at least some sense of order.
Deals and Deceptions
Not long after my win, a big corporation came knocking. High-paying job waiting for me post-term. In return, my vote to let them build a casino in the area. It could be good for the economy.
Vote no since it harms the environment.
As with any construction, the environment is at risk, but principles are pressing.
Take it and use the money for good works.
There will always be a good cause seeking funding, but a promise is a contract and breaking a campaign promise isn’t in my playbook.
Gloves Off
Next up on the order of council business is a by-law called Right to Fight. It’ll ban fight clubs, except in the casinos. My constituents hate it. They do not care for fighting but dislike losing personal freedoms more.
To me, pugilism is barbaric, even between consenting adults. A fellow councillor says he will opt out of the controversy and attend a good movie on vote day. That, I think, is cowardly.
Represent the majority, vote against.
I was elected to represent by heart and mind and not merely be present on behalf of others.
Fighting is barbaric. I reason: if it’s repulsive, it must be wrong. I vote for the ban on grounds of conscience. Not everyone agrees, and my poll numbers take a hit. The land development lobby takes notice.
Growth Pains
Port Spindrift’s population is fairly steady. To expand, rezoning for development is on the table. One lobbyist calls the proposed development ugly and evil because it will bring fast food, billboards, and neon signs. More people, more pollution.
Another lobbyist says it will bring business, jobs, and tax revenue for public services like police, schools, and hospitals.
Ugly is evil, vote no.
The ugly-evil stance falls flat because it is a bit extreme. Making you feel bad is wrong, but the ‘ugly evil’ case is over the top.
Vote yes to increase tax revenue.
Money helps, but growth isn’t urgent. There is no pressing need. I vote ‘no’ and rise in the polls. It might be time to run for mayor on an environmental platform. I have a by-law to stop the local mill from dumping sludge into the lagoon.
The Sludge Problem
Mill reps beg me to withdraw the proposed by-law. The town depends on the mill for jobs and taxes. In an interview, I tell the reporter …
Everyone benefits from a clean environment.
Sure, I can say that, but while a clean environment is good, it’s not my driving motive.
The mill doesn’t represent the people.
It doesn’t. As an elected official, I do, and my focus is on integrity. I tell the reporter my campaign promise is a contract with the people. The mill can operate, not pollute.
Scandal and Resolve
The mill’s owner is a cousin to the editor of The Caption, the town’s local newspaper. He targets me through an old friend, Homer, who is running for council. Rumours are flying about Homer’s sports past. Let me clarify.
Homer, a local sports hero before leaving for college, returned to Port Spindrift and has a shot at upsetting the incumbent. The editor of The Caption tells Homer there’s a rumour that he took performance-enhancing drugs during his sports years. If Homer drops out, the editor will quash the story.
The rumour isn’t true, but Homer is concerned a scandal will harm his folks. They run an art supply store here in town. I urge him to …
Drop out, family first.
Not a chance. Giving in is agreeing to blackmail, and that’s not my way.
Stay in; people are counting on you.
The confidence of others is important, but that reasoning is populist, not principled. I urge him to stay in, but on principle. Fight the good fight.
Bitter Lessons
Sometimes, more than being right is needed. Homer lost, thanks to biased editorials. Integrity hadn’t paid off.
Homer and Doris Open go way back, despite their political differences. Doris worked on the campaign of Homer’s rival, Polly Tickle. Over coffee, she reveals that Polly receives contributions from land developers and offered her a job today. Homer urges Doris to …
Take it and help Polly clean up her act.
It would be difficult to convince Polly when Doris kept quiet about the contributions during the campaign. Taking the job and keeping quiet about it would only compound the integrity issue.
Refuse the job and tell the press why.
Homer urges Doris to be honest with the public about what she knows despite his own loss. Turn down the job. Tell the press why. Compel The Caption to investigate one of their own. She does, they do.
A Taxing Problem
Mayor Clara Phi wants to balance environmental protection with downtown renewal. One councilman whose family owns a shopping plaza opposes this plan. They fear losing business to a revitalized downtown. A tax break might pacify him.
Bend a little, help everyone.
This time, a tax break; next time, what? Bending is a slippery slope.
Then, stand your ground.
That’s my plan: no special treatment for anyone. No tax break, no support from the councilman. The renewal project stalls.
Party Politics
Some party members think I should compromise—downtown renewal, worth a bit of favouritism. They say a good result justifies the way we achieve it.
Speaking of good results, there’s this offer for a federal cabinet position. It comes with a catch. I must switch to the party in office—whose federal policies I favour. However, the people in my district voted against that party as much as they voted for me.
Stay loyal to your party.
In my district, the end justifying the means worries me. But I won’t run for election in another district. Changing parties is an act of courage; running in a different district is not.
Follow your conscience.
I do. I accept the federal position. Politics is the art of influence, and I am effective in supporting the environment.
In time, the cabinet position leads to the office of National Leader.
Principles Under Fire
As National Leader, I push for minority rights. The needed votes come at a price—government-funded projects for a key bloc. It sounds like the land developer scenario all over again.
Learn the lesson, and buy their votes.
Buying votes is populist rather than principled politics. Not my style.
Conduct the vote without their support.
Sticking to principle, I refuse to buy support. People are not a means to an end. The bloc holds firm, and the bill fails.
War and Promises
Public outcry weakens the bloc’s influence, which is crucial since war is brewing: one neighbouring nation taking over another. Promising to keep troops home will help re-election but likely be broken.
Nobody expects politicians to keep promises.
That others fail to keep promises isn’t a reason for me to fail, too. If I make it, I keep it.
Press members want me to say whether I will or won’t involve our nation in war. To be consistent, I decline to make a promise. What isn’t promised isn’t broken.
The Break-in
Disgruntled reporters dig into my background and discover a break-in at the opposition’s HQ during the last election. I hadn’t ordered it but knew. A scandal may hinder my ability to be ready in the event war breaks out.
Cover it up and keep a strong image.
Opportunism isn’t sufficient reason to deny transparency; it is self-serving, not public-serving. In a televised interview, I admit that I was aware of the break-in and did not stop it. The mistake is mine. Polls show the public approves of me coming clean and accepting responsibility.
Stepping Down
My opponents start the process of impeachment over the break-in incident. Public hearings begin. With limited ability to influence and war pending between border nations, I allow the vice leader, Paul Ticks, to take over during the impeachment proceeding.
Paul is an opposing party member, chosen as a compromise to ensure election. The opposition believes in doing what makes most people happy.
An open vote on capital punishment is pending in the legislature. Most citizens want capital punishment returned, but Paul is against it. The vote will be close, so his choice may decide the result. The vice-leader casts a vote even as interim leader if the legislature is deadlocked.
Follow your conscience and vote against it.
Paul’s party believes in doing what makes most people happy. He would do as they wish, not as he wishes.
Follow the wishes of those who elected you.
The majority want capital punishment back. That would make most people happy. Paul votes in favour of capital punishment even though he is against it by conscience.
Collusion and Consequences
Clara’s career does not survive the impeachment. She resigns and retires to her hometown. There, she raises Golden Retrievers and writes a blog on The Art of the Possible.
Before being sworn to office, Paul is asked to reveal any conflict of interest. Paul doesn’t see his shares in some companies as problematic. An investigation reveals that one company has extensive dealings with a department he administered. There is pressure for Paul to follow Clara and resign.
Resign due to conflict of interest.
Whether there is a conflict of interest and whether the majority believe that is sufficient reason for him to resign have yet to be shown.
Apologize and stay on.
Paul believes we are free to do as we please as long as we do not harm others. He has done no harm and stays on. The apology appeases the public; they aren’t happy about it but accept it.
Priorities and Endgames
Paul’s government has decided that more lives can be saved if the money for kidney dialysis programs is spent on highway safety campaigns.
Constance Struggle, leader of the opposition party, knows that the argument has merit, but she receives messages daily from constituents who will be hurt if dialysis support is reduced. Constance weighs whether to vote for or against the budget change.
For, since more people will benefit
Like Polly, Constance is guided by principle and compassion. She cannot condone taking money from those already allocated. Couldn’t rob Peter to pay Paul.
Against, it treats lives as a means to an end.
Constance is a member of Polly’s party. For them, duty comes before utility, so she votes against it. People are not tools, not a means to an end.
In the moral drama “Keeping Watch,” the protagonist, a mall security guard, faces two key dilemmas. The guard catches Maria, night cleaning staff, stealing and must decide whether to follow the rulebook and report her, which could cost her job, or let her off with a warning. This decision showcases the guard’s empathy, which comes into play with the second dilemma about the dog.
It also sets up a reciprocal relationship between the guard and Maria. Later, when the guard is injured, she calls 911 to ensure he has medical attention. This reinforces the theme that compassion begets compassion, creating a positive feedback loop in the narrative.
The next day, the guard, still recovering, hears the neighbour’s dog whimpering in the noonday sun. The dog is tied up and clearly suffering. The guard must decide whether to ignore it, report it, or do something about it.
The guard chooses to provide water and move the dog to a shaded area. This helps the dog but also provides the guard with a sense of accomplishment and relief. The headache plaguing the guard seems less intense, symbolizing the emotional and psychological benefits of doing the right thing.
Both dilemmas highlight the protagonist’s moral integrity and the ripple effects of compassionate choices. The guard’s decisions to help Maria and the dog create a narrative arc that emphasizes the importance of empathy and human connection. These choices lead to positive outcomes, both for the individuals directly involved and for the guard’s own sense of well-being. The story uses the Dilemma challenge to explore the impact of moral choices on the narrative and character development.
Keeping Watch
New Arcadia, 2002
Sunset Mall
The mall at night is a different beast. The fluorescent lights hum like an angry hive, casting lonely shadows across the empty corridors.
As a security guard, my job is to watch over this place, adding to my pension, though it hardly needs watching. It’s a good thing, though, because with the neighbour’s dog howling at night, I’ve had little sleep.
Stock Room
During my rounds, I spot her—Maria, the night cleaning staff, stuffing rolls of toilet paper into her bag. When she finally notices me, her eyes widen, and she freezes.
Maria is a single mother working two jobs. Her story is well-known among us. Her smile could light up the darkest corners of this mall, but tonight, that smile is nowhere to be found.
Approach Maria and confront her.
I walk over, my boots scuffing the linoleum. “Maria,” I say, my voice low and steady. She flinches, waiting for the hammer to drop. “You know you can’t be doing this.”
Tears well up in her eyes, and she nods.
Theft is theft—report her.
That’s what the rulebook says, what’s expected. But a few rolls of toilet paper aren’t worth a job, not when you’re scraping by.
I could give her a stern warning, let her know she’s been seen and hope it scares her straight. I could pretend I saw nothing and let her walk away, dignity intact. Hell, I could even replace the toilet paper myself, cover her tracks.
“Look, just put it back. This time, I’ll pretend I didn’t see anything. But don’t let it happen again, okay?”
She nods again, replaces the rolls, and pushes the cart away. I turn and walk away, the hum of the lights following me. Sometimes, the right thing isn’t in the rulebook. Sometimes, it’s just about being human.
Escalator
Locking up, I notice a loose tile on the floor near the edge of the escalator. Bending down to inspect it, I slam my head on the edge of the escalator with a sickening ‘whump.’ Everything goes black.
When I come to, the mall is eerily quiet. My head throbs and I feel nauseous. I feel the blood.
Call out for help.
“Maria!” I croak, trying to sit up, but the world spins around me. I turn and am sick. The next thing I know, a couple of paramedics are rushing toward me, Maria right behind them. She had already called 911.
“Thank you,” I whisper as they lift me onto the stretcher. “Owe ya one.”
She smiles that same smile that could light up the darkest corners. “We all need a little help sometimes,” she replies, watching them wheel me away.
At Home
The following morning, my headache pounds, each beat echoing through my skull. I lie on the couch, eyes closed, trying to will the pain away.
Outside, the sun turns the world into a shimmering mirage. That’s when I hear it—the soft, pitiful whimpering of the neighbour’s dog.
I groan, rolling over to face the window and sit up. The room spins before settling into a dull throb.
The pup is tied up in the noonday sun. Its fur is matted, and its eyes pleading for relief. I know that dog. It has a habit of running off whenever it has the chance. Still, the neighbour is careless, leaving it tied up.
Phone the humane society.
Report neglect and let them deal with it—that would mean fines for my neighbour, maybe worse. Besides, the pup needs help now. Who knows how long it would take for them to show up?
Take water to the dog.
Water would ease its suffering for a moment, but that won’t solve the problem. The sun will still beat down. The dog will still be tied up, still at the mercy of a neglectful owner.
Ignore the whimpers.
Sure, I could tell myself this isn’t my problem, but the sound cuts through my headache, cuts through my apathy. I can’t sit here and do nothing.
Try to tie the dog in the shade.
This dog’s a runner. It could take off and has before. I doubt that I could catch it. The dog might end up lost or worse and the neighbor will blame me.
The dog whimpers again, making my heart ache. I grab a bottle of water from the kitchen. I can’t solve all the world’s problems but can do something.
Neighbour’s Yard
Outside, the heat hits me like a wall. I approach slowly, talking softly to keep it calm. I pour water into a bowl and set it down. The dog laps it up, its tail wagging weakly.
Look for a shady spot.
I see a tree with some shade. I untie the dog, holding onto its collar. I wish I had a leash. Still, it follows willingly, too tired to run. I tie it up again, ensuring it has enough slack to lie down.
The dog settles into the shade, its eyes closing in relief. I stand there for a moment, watching it breathe easier, feeling a small sense of accomplishment. The headache is still there, but it seems a little less intense now.
Back Home
I turn to return inside, knowing I’ll have to deal with the neighbour eventually. For now, the dog is safe, and that’s enough.
Sometimes, you have to do what you can, even if it’s not perfect, like my job at the mall.
Snippets
Other examples of the Dilemma challenge follow.
Keep a floatation device or give it away to another survivor floating in the ocean after the plane crash.
The ocean stretches endlessly, a vast expanse of blue and despair. The plane went down minutes ago—hours ago, I can’t tell.
I’m clinging to a flotation device, all that is keeping me from sinking into the abyss. The sun beats down mercilessly, the saltwater stings my eyes. Around me, a few other survivors bob in the water, their faces etched with fear and exhaustion.
I see her—a woman, fifty-something, struggling to stay afloat. Her eyes meet mine. My heart tightens. I think of my wife, waiting for me to come home, and my young sons, too innocent to understand the cruelty of the world. They need me. I’m their only source of income, their rock.
> Give up the flotation device in the spirit of ‘women and children first.’
I could adhere to the old code—but what would that mean for my family? My boys might grow up feeling abandoned, wondering why their father chose a stranger over them.
> Give up the flotation device because the woman is elderly.
I’m not sure if she’s middle-aged or elderly. How much does it matter? I could give it to her; that feels like the right thing to do. But would my sacrifice make a difference in the grand scheme of things? Without rescue soon, we all drown.
> Keep the flotation device for the sake of my family.
I have to think of my family’s future. They need me alive. My death would leave them struggling, my boys growing up without a father’s guidance.
Who am I fooling? Survival is a primal instinct, and in this vast, unforgiving ocean, it’s everyone for themselves. Selfish pales in the shadow of survival.
The woman’s eyes bore into me. She is barely afloat, treading water in place. I know this motion. She is drowning before me. Something shifts inside me. I can’t let her drown while I float here, haunted by the memory of her desperate eyes.
> Give up the flotation device.
I paddle over. “Here,” I say, pushing the flotation device towards her. “Take it.”
She looks at me, still fluttering, then reaches for it. “Thuh …thuh … thuh.”
Tears well up in my eyes. “You’re welcome,” I say.
> Quickly, take it back!
Temptation rushes over me like adrenaline. I see myself yanking it back, shouting something about “for my kids, my kids,” as if I’m a hero. Then, just as fast, it passes. Fear. I let go of the device.
The water feels colder now.
Allow a superpower trading partner to place missiles or risk an economic embargo.
The room is dim, making me wonder whether the sun has given up on this sorry world. I sit at my desk, a cigar smouldering in the ashtray, the smoke curling up like the questions in my mind. The letter lies open, its words as cold and sharp as a winter wind.
“Deadly missiles,” I mutter, running a hand through my thinning hair. “They want to put deadly missiles here.”
> Stand with the people. Refuse the missiles.
My people don’t want to become a pawn in a game played by giants. They want peace, but the economy is another beast that needs feeding, and the superpower is a key trading partner. The citizens would cheer me today, but what about tomorrow when the shelves are empty, and their jobs are gone?
> Pass the decision to the legislature, let them carry the burden.
That feels like cowardice, hiding behind the skirts of democracy when leadership is needed. Is this what they elected me for?
Blaming the previous government is always an option. Politicians have been doing it for centuries—it’s almost a tradition—but it wouldn’t solve the problem.
> Accept the missiles, protect the economy.
The land of milk and honey with a target, a potential ground zero in a conflict that isn’t ours to begin with.
I lean back in my chair, staring at the ceiling as if it holds the answers. The clock on the wall ticks away, each second a reminder that time is running out.
“Damned if you do, damned if you don’t,” I say to myself, stubbing out the cigar.
In the end, it isn’t about the missiles or the economy. It’s about the people, the ones who look to me for guidance, for protection.
In the adventure “Vanish Without Trace,” the protagonist faces several practical dilemmas. How to deal with the cave dweller. How to secure warmth and food. How to rescue the raft. Each choice has consequences that affect survival and progress.
This narrative contains annotations to clarify the goal, action, rationale, and consequences. These are seldom so explicit, but they illustrate the dilemma challenge as a matter of cascading choices.
Vanish Without Trace
Ruddy River, 1934
Main Goal: river adventure
The Raft
This is not quite a safari
in not quite a canoe.
For a budget river journey,
my raft will have to do.
From origin to terminus,
I’d paddle fast and free.
So I thought—but then got caught,
too close to this eddy.
A vortex spins my river craft
yet grips it fast in place.
To sink for lack of towing force,
to vanish without trace.
I press the paddle on the stowage bag to secure it. The bag holds a first-aid kit and a dry change of clothing. I might need both. The pockets of my jacket hold a compass and a chart of Ruddy River. The raft, the compass, and my head are all spinning, but not in the same direction.
Goal: find refuge
I glimpse an outcrop of rocks. Further downstream, the river bends into the mouth of a cave.
Paddle with fury and try to out-muscle the vortex.
I have no fury with which to paddle. I’m pooped and looking to swim somewhere for rest.
Swim to the rocks and climb.
Exhausted already, the prospect of climbing has no appeal.
Swim into the cave at the river bend.
The Cave
Rationale
Exhausted from a counter-padding contest with the current, the cave seems the closest refuge for rest.
Action
I leap off the raft—no frog ever ejected from a lily pad so awkwardly. I swim through the eddy, slip into the cave, and clamber onto mossy rock.
Consequence
Gasping for breath, I glance into the cave. In the centre, a fire pit is framed by a loose circle of stones. The fire is down, but not out. There is a lump on a stick propped over the coals. A bearskin rug is beside the pit. Further back, the cave extends into shadow.
Goal: revive energy
Venture further into the cave.
I am exhausted and can venture no further.
Wrap up in the bearskin beside the fire.
Warmth is welcome, but the bearskin is creepy.
Eat the charred food in the fire pit.
Fire Pit
Action
I rip off a limb of the charred whatever in the fire pit.
Rationale
Protein provides energy and much was lost in the vortex.
Consequence
Besides, whatever it was, it tasted like chicken. Instinctively licking my fingers, I extend them to the fire pit, desperate for warmth.
Goal: warm up
Jog in place to warm up.
How many times must I say how exhausted I am? Jogging, no.
Return to the raft for a change of clothes.
Maybe a change of clothes is in order once I am warm and rested.
Shift the front log with a stick.
Rationale
Flame flickers between the stacked logs, offering a modicum of radiant heat. My soaked clothes aren’t helping. I’ve gone prune-skin in places where the skin ought not to imitate a prune. Even so, taking off wet togs might not be the best way to encounter the cave’s natural inhabitants, should it come to that.
Action
Removing the front log exposes a hot, glowing region. This increased radiation dries my clothing to a tolerable dampness. More fire, more light.
Consequence
The light reveals a stack of rocks, like stairs, at the back of the cavern. There seem to be shifting shadows as well, perhaps a trick of flickering flames. If so, it might suffice to listen for footfalls before bringing out the welcome home wagon.
Goal: find safety
Move toward the shadows.
Shadows may belong to the residents of this cave. They feast on the charred beasts and can bring down a bear for a rug.
Return to the raft now that you have more energy.
Returning to the raft is the goal. However, it would be prudent to discover the nature of the shadows.
Listen for footfalls.
Cave Dweller
Action
I sit still on the rug-draped rock and probe the cavern with my ears, listening for an intruder. As I reflect, I realize I am the intruder and slink into a dark corner.
Rationale
Good timing, too, for the shadows resolve into a body of some bulk.
Consequence
It’s the cave dweller, and with dry clothes, I note. Oblivious to me, Big Hairy curls up beside the rekindled fire. Loud snoring ensues.
Goal: avoid the dweller
Rouse the cave dweller for help.
The cave dweller doesn’t seem the social type, nor one to be roused from sleep.
Slip out to the raft.
Between me and the raft is a sleeping bulk of primitive. Perhaps another direction would be wise.
Tip-toe to the stair-step outcropping.
The Stairs
Rationale
With the river blocked by a snoring bulk, I tip-toe to the stairs.
Action
At the top of the stairs, I toss back a thatch mat and glimpse back to see the cave dweller in pursuit. He sleeps lighter than he looks.
Hoisting myself onto the embankment, I kick back the thatch mat. It lands on the cave’s resident’s startled face and hears muffled “oof oof oof” sounds.
Consequence
On the other side of the river, there is a tree hut. On this side of the river, a dangling vine hitched behind a branch hangs. Eying the vine, cliché images of Tarzan come to mind. The cave figure staggers into view.
Goal: escape the dweller
Beat your chest and shout like Tarzan to frighten off the cave figure.
Beating my chest and shouting might provoke the cave dweller. Or it might be mistaken for a mating call.
Leap into the Ruddy River.
Always with the river. I just dried off; there has to be a better way.
Swing on the vine.
Across the River
Action
Clutching the vine, I take a running leap. It works.
Rationale
I find myself safely on the other side of the river and hold back the vine rather than letting it swing back to the cave dweller.
Consequence
The vine dangles down to the forest floor. Above, simian sounds stir from the tree canopy. It seems my presence has upset the chimps. They chuck coconuts and, urk, feces.
Goal: escape the attack
Pretend to eat a banana to throw them off their game.
It is difficult to pretend to eat fruit when poop is being thrown my way.
Toss coconuts back.
I toss back a few coconuts. My simian cousins consider this an act of war or a great game. Either way, there are more of them than me, and they seem to like the odds.
Slide down the vine.
Forest Floor
Rationale
The vine dangling to the ground offers rapid escape.
Action
I slide like a firefighter down a station-house pole and land beside the river, near the eddy-entrapped raft. Some projectiles, vine and coconuts, precede my descent.
Consequence
The screeches are louder. I have no interest in grappling with another excrement attack, but grappling of another sort might work. A hook to the raft, or take the offensive with a slingshot of coconut and vine. Nail one, the rest run.
In any case, the raft is closer here than from the cave. Closer for a shorter swim.
Goal: free the raft
Construct a coconut slingshot with the vine.
Surprisingly, the slingshot works. Unfortunately, it excites them to more acts of tossing unpleasantries. I am fighting a war I cannot win and no closer to escape.
Swim out to the raft.
That’s it! I’ve had it. No more talk of jumping into Ruddy River! No more wet and cold. Besides, it is still stuck in the vortex.
Make a grappling hook of coconut and vine.
Rationale
Getting to the raft won’t help unless it is free of the vortex.
Action
I construct a hook of broken coconut tethered to a vine. Like a cowpoke with a limber lasso, I swing it around and around, timing the rotations to drop the coconut into the raft.
Consequence
Pulling the craft out of the eddy and to shore, I settle into the raft, gripping the paddle firmly. I am soon bearing down-current, past the figure slumped in the cave and far from the flinging of chimps, escaping the eddy.
Was it not Thoreau who said: Go confidently in the direction of your dreams? I glide downstream, the water now a gentle companion rather than a fierce adversary.
