Crawling

It was sheer joy to be here. To be crawling through the mud, the leaves, the grass. The rain poured, the lightning flashed, and the thunder clapped. Sheer joy. I crawled through the park alone and revelled at my luck. No one here because of the weather. I was filthy and did not care. I’d lost a shoe, my knees bled, my palms were cut. Still I grinned ear to ear. I would be the first one here. I would win.

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