A bad trip in the forest (Closed)

All roads lead somewhere, and all trails blaze a path forward, so Orion let his feet carry him along the path, absently clearing his mind of any intrusive thoughts.  The sun was warm, the wind was pleasant, and the air smelled of freshly fallen leaves.  Hands on his hips, Orion strolled with nary a care in the world, head empty, zero thoughts.

That was, till there was a fork in the road.  Both looked perhaps the same, roughly a few feet across, wide enough that two could walk easily shoulder to shoulder or hand in hand.  Both were roughly free of roots snaking their way into the dirt and creating potential trip hazards.  Yet one was clearly the more popular choice, the fallen leaves had been brushed aside with the trudging of idle feet clearing a path, whilst the other had wide drifts of red leaves built up, a clear sign that noone had been through in some time.  He wasn't sure where either went, his eyes straining as he peered down each to ascertain where they might lead to no avail.  He thought about tossing a coin, or playing eeny meeny miny moe, but neither could truly satisfy his desire for an answer.  If he let fate decide, he was simply being a passenger in his own life, and not the driver.  

Truly the tragedy of the day, the man who had gone on a walk to avoid all his problems was now suddenly faced directly with a problem that had no clear answer.  Yet the more he sat and dwelled on the problem at hand, a niggling thought wormed its way intrusively into his head.  He knew the solution to this dilemma, but what was it?  He racked his head, straining his mind as to why he thought he knew this answer, and then it hit him.

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood.

He could practically remember laying on his sofa, his head planted on Rin's lap using her as a pillow while she read their english homework to him.  He could practically smell her vanilla perfume as the words echoed through his mind.

And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood...

He'd remembered how he was failing English, he wasn't gonna get to play baseball if he didn't get his grades up and she'd dragged him home to study.  

And I looked down one as far as I could go
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

He'd never cared much for that class, or reading shitty poetry for that matter, but the way she made it sound, well, it'd captivated him.  His mind had never been more in the moment in his entire life as he stared up at her.  She held the book in one hand, off to the side so he could watch her face as she got really into it.  Poetry had always been her thing.  

Then took the other, as just as fair,

And having perhaps the better claim,

Because it was grassy and wanted wear;

Though as for that the passing there

Had worn them really about the same,


Honestly, the fact he even remembered this stupid poem was a shock to him, not quite sure what to make of it.  Was the game making him remember, or was this memory really just as vivid as he was recalling it?  He didn't need all this boring waffling bullshit about how he picked, he just needed to know which one he'd picked.  His mind scanned the memory, hitting the bit he actually gave a shit about.

I took the one less traveled by,

And that has made all the difference.

Jackpot!  He'd turned to the leave covered road and began happily down the way, crisis averted.  Thanks English, you'd saved the day for once.  He would have to keep these lessons in mind for the future, such as if anyone ever rolled up trying to get him to visit their wine cellar for a fancy glass, or if he ever got real miserly around christmas.