Jenni Horner
Overcomer
running on pure gritCollapsing more than contracting, my muscles ache as each foot scrapes and kicks back the red dust behind me. Blood, vigorously boiling in my veins, begs me for more oxygen, but every breath in is dried up as soon as it hits my desert lungs. Steady breaths hiss behind me, slithering down my neck. They seem so precise, so perfect, effortless compared to the ragged puffs of air that escape my lips. My eyes squeeze shut, I am fast, I am free, I am powerful; the words that usually give me strength…Jenni Horner6 min read