Running, gasping.

I don’t need this.

Running, gasping.

I’m too old for this.

Running, gasping.

I knew I should have taken up cross-country in high school.

Running, gasping.

Where are they?

Running, gasping.

I still hear their footsteps.

Sprinting, convulsing.

Was that the left I was supposed to make?

Sprinting, convlusing, confused.

..was it?
Wait wait wait..

Slowing, heaving, puffing.

Forget it.

Stopped, bent over, breathing heavily.

“Janice?”

Sigh.

“I told you not to come after me.” I warned.

“You need to take your medications, Janice,” she cooed, slyly edging towards me. “You see how grumpy and rebellious you get?”

“You don’t know the first thing about rebels! If you want to know about rebels, you ask my husband about his time in the war!”

“Janice..” she began quietly as she slid me into a wheelchair. “You don’t have a husband.”

“How would you know? You weren’t even alive during the war.”

Who does she think she is?