Keep Running

Running. So much running. My knees are weak, my lungs burning. I look over my shoulder to see my pursuer, still about the same distance behind me that he was 3 days ago. I’ve been running for so long I can’t remember my name. It doesn’t matter. There won’t even be a gravestone to show it, if I get caught. I have travelled so far, searching for shelter, for solace. For anything.

But alas, all I see is this abysmally black landscape, stretching out as far as the eye can see. I know not how I came to be here, I simply awoke in this new landscape and started running. That thing, whatever it was, was after me even then. I had not the time to look down to see if I was wearing shoes before the running began. I sincerely hope I was.

I continue running, mist forming a shroud around me; a cold juxtaposition to the searing black landscape. Why am I being chased? Where am I? What is chasing me? These are the important questions, the ones I should ask when I’m not running for my life. The mist thickens.

So tired. So very tired. I don’t think I can run much more. I don’t know what this thing wants, but it seems apparent to me, that it will soon have its wish.