The Pride of Alaska

Befuddled by the multitude, the adventurer’s sight locks on an inn sign that reads “The Pride of Alaska” as if he were seeing it through a telescope. Although not knowing what significance Alaska has, should have or will have to him, he steps through the door with the relief that comes from recognition of the slightest familiar thing when nothing else is. Going along the low corridor to the stairs, he passes a doorway (with no door) to a room full of the smoke and noise of people playing cards and drinking. Bending his head, he carries on up the stairs to the attic room he has been given. Then, sitting on the bed, he remembers that nothing can be familiar, that any path is unknown.