Chapter Seventy-One: Wet Morning

My feet stomp thunderously against the wet concrete as I run, the rhythm in sync with the ferocious beating of my heart. It rained last night, the smell of rain still clung to the air, giving the morning a chill. My chest is on fire. My legs are on fire. But I can't stop. I won't stop. I have got to keep going, I tell myself as I turn the corner, officially 1km away from our townhouse. It is a long treacherous climb up the hill, but the thought of a hot shower and some warm coffee gives wind to my wings and I huff and puff my way up.