A weary traveler stands before the gate. He squints into the blackness on the other side.
Fear and apprehension wrinkle his countenance. Nobody's ever returned from the gate. No one can say what's there.
The more he lingers in front of the gate, the more he wants to stay. He feels the world pleading to him to return home, to forget about the gate.
He begins to turn away from the gate, then suddenly stops, understanding something. He sighs, relaxes himself, and walks across the threshold.