If I keep moving I can get it all out of my system. Run hard enough, long enough; sweat enough; lose my breath.
Maybe, just maybe, I can keep ahead of it all. I’ll get to the end of the road, find out what I’m made of.
Temptation and exhaustion seduce me to my knees, fall on my face, close my eyes, cry.
Endless pursuit. Endlessly pursued.
“Rest when I’m dead” just might be truth.