On the reality of divergence

How easily, though walking side by side along what seems a narrow path, do two people part ways. As both look down the same road, at what point does one imagine a river as the other describes a stream? Each trudge forward, watching his own steps, neither noticing the widening gap between them. Suddenly, the other is out of sight. They continue to move forward, sometimes faster and then slow. Memories are fond, but faint. Will they meet again someday? When one hears the inevitable sound of feet rustling distant leaves, will he still himself and beckon into the vast beyond? Or, instead, will the once familiar sound of unseen life frighten him and cause him to speed up, only widening the expanse between them?

This, the end of the story, is also the beginning. As way leads on to way and time quietly kills everything, will there be time to listen for the rustling of leaves? Will either continue to believe that the distant voice he hears is not the echo of his own?