the runner

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Joined 8 years ago

Perhaps we knew each other, once. Remember? I passed you on the sidewalk, or crossed in front of your car, or held the door for you as you entered the store. Your faces blur, and as my feet pound the asphalt, grass, sand, and gravel, I whisper. At each footstep, a different name, another tired combination of the characters that have defined my life. Perhaps, once, you heard the tinny remnants and traces of far-off music. It is not what you think.

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