Dawn was breaking but slowly. The decrepit stadium, lighted by fading lamps, was desolate. He bent low and tightened his shoelaces, his facial muscles taut and strained from the effort to do so. The air was sharp and cold, hurting his lungs a little as he inhaled. The stillness in the air did nothing to dissipate the uneasy restlessness and ache in his limbs to run. He stretched his hamstring and begun his warm up sequence, something he had not done for months or so. Despite losing track of time in the past year, he had not lost his passion for running. The pull in his hamstring was magnified by the throbbing in his head.
Oh no! This story doesn't have a prequel. Want to fill in the blanks and write one?
Oh no! This story doesn't have a sequel. Want to fill in the blanks and write one?