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Evening Run

His heart pounds against his ribcage, pleading for its release. Lungs refuse the air, but he forces it upon them. Legs whine and stiffen, but comply. Sweat pours down his face, diverging at every crevice and wrinkle, meeting again in a steady drip from his chin. The impending darkness chases him, the shadows of the trees collapse on every side.  The trail feels different now – each dip surprising, each rock menacing.  His focus in the fading light is total. His feet are nimble, but insecure. His eyes darting, nervous. Attentiveness comes instinctively, and so his consciousness lulls. Pressures, duties, problems, dissolve into insignificance. Stress melts, coating and calming what was so recently critical.  Nothing matters but the strike of his foot, the curve of the trail, the glimmer of light.

His body is awakened. His mind can rest.



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