Sneakers dance through the snow, greying and frayed, as windswept ridges split before them. The air is dense, an ethereal sludge clinging to a cold that hardens lungs with every forceful breath. A wind, with slender icy fingers, claws at exposed skin.

Twisting through the quiet streets, a body intermittently trades the shrouded darkness of the night for jaundiced artificial sheets streaming from street lights. With every wavering stride, comes a jolt, a tight pulled grimace. Forward, he runs.

Words are emitted in quiet rasps of agony, sputtering from a mouth flooded with a bitter sanguine taste. The run is not over. He knows this. Slowly, a quiet resolve is re-etched onto his flushed features. With a determination comparable to chiseling into unyielding marble block, each footstep hammers into the earth, carving a rough-hewn path.

With time, it ends. Panting, his head swings upward. Eyes fixed on silent sky intently stare down the unspeaking sentinels, question the prime witnesses to all things to come and all things that have been. They stare back on this lone moment of mediocrity in a nameless suburb. He coughs, then spits into the mud-stained slush huddling in the shelter of the curb-side adjacent to him. A grin, through chattering teeth, spreads as a warm light blossoms from the door and a friendly silhouette saunters into the frame. Forward, he runs.

© Copyright 2025 Kev. All rights reserved.