When There's a Will There's a Way

The hall was narrow, just perceptibly so, in such a way that a tense man might walk more comfortably than a man at ease. A turn to the left yielded little and the right perhaps even less, although it was difficult to be certain; a fortunate turn to the right was possible or still more a fortunate turn to the left - the intersections were so spectacularly numerous - and at each stood a chair which sat a man, who would foretell the traveler of the imminent hope or despair awaiting he who turned left or right, according to his will.

"Sir," said a traveler addressing a man seated at the fork, "I've been walking longer than I can remember. I need to arrive soon. Please tell me the way."

"Dear traveler," answered the seated man, who was remarkably slight and pale, "you must choose a path according to your will, which leads to either hope or despair."

"I know this!" the traveler snapped, "each time I've been told the same thing. You must tell me which leads to hope, or I shall not move from here."

"Left."

"Thank you, Sir! Finally comes grace after all this struggle. Thank you again. I shall go to the left."

The traveler resolved to set off when -

"Right."

At length the traveler argued and fought with the seated man to understand but nothing came of it and finally he collapsed on the floor, losing his senses altogether and lay dying in utter exhaustion.

Whereupon the seated man calmly picked up the traveler, revived him with food and water, placed him in the chair -

and walked off, aimlessly.