Photo by Jody Bailey

A dream doesn’t make a sound when it dies. With no reason to exclaim, the aspiration simply slips away with a sickening silence.

January 19th, 2020

Exhausted and stunned, I stumble forward reluctantly.

Dehydrated and sore from having just battled 26.2 miles of windswept streets, I pause in panic, fearful of moving forward because once I leave this chute it’s…