To run was the only thing he could do. He couldn't escape the overwhelming feelings.
He couldn't escape the overwhelmingly heavy burden of the path he was given. It was his path, yes. Or was it a shared path? He suspected it was, but there was no one who could verify it. No one. He was Forrest Gump, just running. And the Bubba Gump Shrimp Factory was his reward. Momma said life was a series of bumps-- raised sheaves of sidewalk to step over or turn around and avoid. So he runs.

Comments

Want to comment? Login or Join

Login Sign up

booksaboutpeace (joined over 14 years ago)
Visit Website

No favorites

Story information

License

Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0

tags

overwhelming heavy

Contact


We like you. Say "Hi."