Run

I run. To stop and catch my breath. To see the man idling away on a bench. To see the gravel giving away on most parts of the road. To catch someone's eye to no avail.

I run. To feel my heart settle into a rhythm. I feel my feet hit the ground. To find a patch where the air is fresh in this hard city. To hear the crick of my spine as I stretch. To wipe my sweat off my brows.

I run. To my favourite songs. To the applause of silent trees. To the scorn of dusty tracks. To the wishful thinking of abandoned buildings.

I run, just to live a little.