A boy walked along a desolate country roadside, behind him hung a white rope which descended from the sky. In front of him lie a world of infinite possibilities. As he walked, the rope followed close behind, bound to nothing, but ascending into the sky as far as he could peer up and see, the white rope was always hanging emptily behind him. The boy walked to school every morning, with the rope closely following.
The boy grew to be an adolescent, he went to school, graduated, left home for the university, completed his university studies, all while the rope always followed close behind. It was not just the boy who had this mysterious rope descending from the sky behind him, but everyone he met, also, had a rope which followed them close as well. No one questioned, no one asked, no one bothered to discuss the rope, because well the rope was always there. It was simply part of the imagery of life. The curious few who climbed the rope were never heard from again, for they climbed into the clouds and were never to be seen, and their ropes had now vanished.
The boy grew into an old man, sitting on a rocking chair by the old country roadside he used to walk along when he went to school as a child. The rope, as ever, hung behind him. But on one particular day the old man wondered, “how would things have been different had I climbed this rope?”, he slowly began to reach for the rope but withdrew, realizing nothing was to come of it.
The old man was now being carried, in a coffin, to the site of his burial. His life complete, his rope now hanging above his coffin. The old man now bound to the confines of his coffin desperately tried to reach for the rope but could not, for his life has now completed and the rope which hangs emptily cannot by grasped. As he tries to reach for the rope dirt falls upon his black coffin, and with each shovel of dirt which falls atop his coffin, his rope slowly begins to ascend into the sky, to vanish as if it were never there.