The quest ended that moment when they shook hands. It was a simple touch of fingers, saying "nice to meet you". That sealed the soul search everyone does during a lifetime. A constant movement from place to place, until you find what you are looking for. And you're always waiting for things to pop up and strike you in  the eye. But that moment the waiting seemed to have stopped. You stop and wonder, is it really happening? You cannot believe what is going on, you question everything, you suspect all sorts of things. You cannot enjoy the fucking moment because you are concerned with these stupid questions. Then, something happens and changes everything. You see yourself thrown into the fucking waiting game all over again. But this time, you know what you are waiting for. You feel a big ball rolling over and over in your chest, scratching the edges of your thorax. Suddenly, you have to inhale deeper and deeper. This ball stops rolling from time to time, to start again harder and harder. You turn on the radio, maybe it'll calm it down. But, no. It doesn't work. Because the ball brought its friend, the small nail in the stomach, stinging and stinging and stinging. And you are again waiting for the antidote to clear all this out. To collect all these tools that you have swallowed all at once and take them away. But, they keep on living inside your body, a constant reminder that you are alive, that life has not ended yet.

John woke up that morning, set on finishing the project he was working on. Lidia was away at the conference in Connecticut, he was alone with a lot of time to kill. He poured some coffee into his cup and went to the drawing board. After five minutes, his doorbell rang. There was Chris.

“Hi, John. How are you?”

“Chris, what are you doing here? I thought you were visiting your parents this weekend.”

“Well, I've changed my mind. I've come to take you out for a walk through Central Park. Look at the sky. Not a trace of clouds at all. What do you say?”

“Ok, I can’t focus on my sketch anyway. Let's go.”

They put on their jackets and left. Central Park was only 10 minutes away on foot. When they entered the park, it was already full of people jogging, roller-skating, reading, laughing. There was a constant buzz everywhere you turned. Suddenly, John saw some children running around, exchanging coloured chalk. He stopped to look at what they were doing, having short flashbacks from his second grade.

“What are you doing here?”

“There's a competition of asphalt drawings. It's the 1^st of June today, remember?”

“Of course. What are you drawing?”

“We're making the picture of a farm, but we don't know how to draw the horse. Will you help us?”

“Sure, give me a piece of brown chalk, please.”

John sat on his knees and showed them everything step by step. He looked at the children's faces, they were listening carefully to what he was saying, trying to copy each of his moves. They were involved into something important, trying to win the competition. John remembered his colleagues from the office, his unfinished project. These children made his heart beat faster, his mind focus on the basic rules of drawing and a simple manner to explain them how everything was done. He left them there working on their little project and looked for Chris. His mind was still thinking of those second graders arguing over the pieces of chalk.

The night was coming quickly and they couldn't find the way to the cottage. The forest was too thick for them to approach, they had to stick to the path. The branches were cracking behind them, some birds were fluttering their wings on the right. The owl cried once. John looked up to the canopies. The leaves were moving, the branches were waving, the forest was loud. Lidia couldn't utter anything. She checked her watch and the rucksack for a sandwich. Nothing left.
"John, we don't have any sandwiches left", said Lidia, already picturing herself eating flies and bugs living on the forest floor.
"Don't worry, we'll reach the cottage in no time. We don't need food"
John tried to keep it together, at least one of them should. He had to find the marks and the way back.
"Lidia, give me the map."
Lidia was thinking of the warm soup she was going to eat in half an hour, maybe, and the hot cocoa she longed for.
"Lidia, Lidia. Give me the map!!!"
John's words seemed to scratch Lidia's ears like a sharp nail. She covered them with her hands, trying to keep the sound out. She bent down.
"Lidia, what's wrong with you? We're close. Just give me the damn map."
John saw her eyes moving from one side to another like small particles. Lidia sat on the cold ground, her hands on her ears. 

He had been staring at the sign in front for over half an hour. He had been travelling for over two weeks, alone, in the mountains. The sun was up in the sky, burning everything that didn’t have the brown colour. Luckily, he had a hat on, so he was safe from insolation. His bottle had enough water to last him for two more hours. “Stop. End of road.” How can that be? The map clearly showed that it connected the two small villages in that area. Could he be lost? He couldn’t. He had his compass and it pointed the right direction. Suddenly, a figure appeared from the other side.

“Joan”, said Chris.

“Hey, what are you doing here?”, but the figure did not listen to him and moved on.

“Joan, wait. Where are you going?”, shouted Chris, taking a hasty step towards it.