He stood up against the bare wall. His chest was rising and falling, his abdominals expanding and hollowing. All synchronised, down and up, in and out. The last few minutes he had been waiting to hit the wall. Both literally and figuratively. Knowing to its essence, the very only sentence that had gone through his mind during his run: neverever breathless. It captivated him, as if the mental distinguished between body and mind had never existed. He heard a howl.
Tom Jensen, 28, died in October, 1956. He was caught up by a wolf and killed when travelling through wilderness.
Slipping the surly bonds
17 hours ago
