Walking down a dirt path, into a brightly-lit forest on a breezy autumn afternoon. Dana carried with her strings of 30 or so colorful balloons in her left hand. With such joy and sanguinity, Dana held tight to these orbs of happiness as she journeyed forth. The oaks and the maples tower above, reflecting its vibrant yellow, orange, red leaves, showering down upon her as she makes her way. Further down the path comes a rather goodly-sized stone tunnel entry. The other side of that tunnel leads to even more color and beauty of the natural scenery. Excited to head forth to this lighted beauty, Dana starts toward the entrance. Entering the tunnel, there's a slight tug from the strings. The tunnel is too narrow to fit her and all of her prized balloons! Pulling and pulling, some of the balloons start popping from the pressure. She wants to go through the tunnel. She wants to take the balloons-- or what's left of it-- with her too. Alas, it isn't so. The balloons, no matter how much she cherishes them, will not fit with Dana to venture toward the other end. Even if she only takes a few, they cannot go through with her lest it risk further damage, rubbing on the hard, gritty tunnel ceiling. With no other conclusion; with the biggest of reluctance, that left hand's grasp unfurls; the grip loosed-- the items of so much joy carry forth, on their way, into the sky. Tears in her eyes, she leaves behind the balloons, venturing into the tunnel-- coming out a markedly changed person.
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