Fleeting

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The morning after the night before and I’d rather have been in bed, or dying quietly somewhere dark. But I headed out for a run, wanting to see what was left of the world after last night’s storm. I’m not going to lie, the first few miles were hell. But slowly it became easier as I was distracted by the beauty. Every time I come up here, it’s changed. Colours shift, as they pull in and out of focus. Entering the forest I breath out and give myself up to the trees, letting them decide which route I’ll take. I’ve been running up here for years and still get lost. It’s a labyrinth of paths that spin me round and dance with my thoughts. It’s a place where you can believe in fairies, ghosts and magic. Catching glimpses of them from the corner of your eye. Somewhere amongst the trees you know that there is a magical lake with a lonely siren waiting for you to find her.

I’m glad I ran, these moments are so fleeting. I want to experience everything I can. Because I might not get a second chance.

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