Present: The breeze kisses Kesley’s cheek as she runs down Millbank. She watches the sun as it rises to meet the horizon of Firelight Park, her destination, her left foot pounds into the pavement giving her a sense of control. She plops on to a park bench at her 12th mile. Near by children play red rover and their joyful screams carry over; Kesley smiles. She looks down at the blood dripping from her leg and feels the sting of the cut. “They never hurt until you look at them” she groans. She gazes at the black ink on her ankle and traces the outline with her finger. It s hard to believe I have come so far since then. Past: The palms of my hands are pressed against his, our fingers interlocked. The warmth of his body is envelops mine. Sweat pours from him forming tiny droplets on my chest. The headboard slams against the wall again, the sound that initially awoke me. I had a splitting headache and began to piece together the night before so I may make sense of what was happening now. I did not want this person to think I was caught off guard so I
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