Running, She Ran

David Burchard Writings Leave a Comment

Running, she ran. And ran, and ran, and ran.

Because there was grass.

Wind rolling her spring sky hued denim.

Each blade begging to color the palette of her glowingly white shorts.

Shortness of breath was a thing for adults, oxygen a requirement for the rationalists.

Running, she ran. And ran, and ran, and ran, fueled by fascination and glee.

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