His breathing was becoming heavy, laboured. His feet trod unevenly along the path, snaking in front of one another, obstacles to themselves. His vision wavered. Each blink came sooner than the last. Each blink was longer than the last.

“What are you doing there, buddy?” a voice called through the haze in his head. It was a high, shrill voice, impossibly chirpy.

“I’m,” his brow creased as he tried to remember, “walking.”

“Walking? That way?” the voice was accompanied by a neon finger, high to the man’s left. It jabbed the air, indicating the direction the man had been travelling.

He nodded sourly, “Yes. It’s the only way.”

“And what’s down that way?” the voice asked, a gentle hum preceding and following each word.

“Forward,” he said resolutely. He sighed, “I think.”

A hand clad in a white velvet glove gripped the wall to the man’s left. It was followed by a monitor, cathode-ray tube, dials and switches, it’s screen a blink of pixels and glitches. Upon the screen a face resolved, happy at first, until its smile dissolved. Its frowning features were green on black, it wore its expression with an absence of tact.

“… Doesn’t look like there’s much down there,” the monitor crackled.

The man looked ahead. He didn’t know what was down there, to be perfectly honest. The destination was lost in darkness, and he didn’t remember setting out. All he knew was that this was the path. This was the path, and he was a person who walked the path.

“There must be something. All roads lead somewhere, right?” the man said.

“Wouldn’t know,” the monitor answered thoughtfully, “These boots were not made for walking,” he pointed at his feet, leagues below, grinning.

The young man ventured towards the low wall, “Has this always been here?”

The monitor leaned forward to inspect the dull, red-brick barricade. As he did, a torso clad in the uniform of a hotel doorman came into view, crisply ironed, with a maroon hue.

“Hmm, honestly couldn’t say,” one Green-3 eye winked conspiratorially, “Maybe you just never thought to look before.”

“Who said I was looking now?” the man answered defensively.

As he challenged the monitor, he noticed the sound of music on the wind, a mix of genres – loud, but not a din. Bright colours flashed through his monochrome haze, luminous, but without substance, avoiding his gaze. Snatches of laughter sang in his ears, and he even caught glimpses of some of his peers.

“What is that place?”

“Here? It’s anything but there!” flashes of cheering people popped up on the screen, before reverting to the same black back and green, “It’s music, it’s dance, it’s videos and games, it’s fun unfiltered, it’s not for the tame. Say, that reminds me, what’s your name?”

“Oh, it’s, uh –”

“Anything you want it to be, that’s what it is! Player 1, anon, troll, Queen Liz, you can be Chuck Norris, Anjin, Nobody, or Link! Sit back and enjoy, with some snacks and a drink.”

The picture was a reel of vices galore, a grand advertisement of what was in store.

The man looked unsure, “But what of meaning, of purpose, of need?”

“Oh, it’s not all about giving in to greed! You can make friends, make stories, gain fame! The only difference? No two days are the same!”

“I don’t want to pour my life down the drain…”

“What makes that end better than this? Is suffering so noble that this chance must be missed? Your body produces dopamine, serotonin, adrenaline, these hormones and more! Why not have them delivered right to your door?” he propped an elbow on the barrier and his countenance was stern, as the digital man went on in turn, “Why hunt for satisfaction when it’s already a natural reaction, to living a life not married to strife? Work or play, lovers or wife, nothing lasts past the end of the day, so just live your life!”

The man looked once more to his unknown destination, even as he was tempted with thoughts of recreation.

“If I go with you can I ever come back?”

“A hop, skip and a jump and you’ll be right on track!”

“It’s an easy climb from my side to yours, but the way back looks steeper; are there no doors?”

The sky was filled with fireworks and banners, the other side welcomed him like he was a pelt at a tanners.

“The world is your oyster, it’s for you to decide! Come and go as you please, or stay for the ride,” an image of grinning teeth filled the TV, a smile as wide a s a cat’s was all he could see.

He looked once more at the steep path he had trod; there were still decades of uphills to scramble and plod.

“Perhaps a short stay would be kind of nice. I can spare a few minutes; it’s not much of a price…”