An Hour Story, Part One

I had been walking for days, resting at erratic points along the way. Under the shelter of any nearby ruin I had contained myself, concealing my features and supplies with nerve-wracking review. I had a close call a few days ago, and since then my efforts have been persuaded into painstaking delicacy.

If its not already obvious, I'll make it clear. I'm on the run. On the run from something--or some things--that I couldn't even begin to justify sharing knowledge about with another. Although my journey had fortunately remained one of isolation and distance most of the way here, there had been a car or two along the way, and I had been lucky to have had temporary cover with enough time to spare to avoid being seen by a wandering eye.

Of course, God knew either of these could have been my saving grace. But, I dare say, my confidence cast no shadow over my judgement, and I know that involving anyone along the way would mean certain death for us all.

So I have fought the stabbing fear and weariness with all that I can muster, and have trekked on. So far, some of those moments have been so trying that surrender and hopelessness have nearly pulled my resolve toward submission, chains to shackle me to the nearest tree until that caustic orb up above may, at its maddening leisure, bath me in its iridescence. That damn rabbit, I thought to myself. That little son of a bitch nearly got me killed. My mind caught on the memory of that encounter and I would have fallen into a tired loop if reality hadn't come swooping back in with a distance crack as my heart gave way to a succession of heavy beats.

I jerked my head around every which way, looking desperately for the source of that sound. What the hell was I doing? Thinking? I couldn't stand here for this long without drawing attention. Even now that little bastard was making its mark on my headstone.

I listened on, but there was nothing more. My heart slowed gradually, finally settling on a rhythm of action. I gathered myself quickly and moved on, quickening my pace, tears leaking down my face in a cry of weariness and tension.

The hours passed as I continued on my arduous journey, keeping a weary eye on the sky above as the time of my unwanted companion awoke from its slumber. At one point I had come to realize that I was moving on a steady incline and immediately had shifted direction, feeling for a consistent downward slope with senses so sharp they had seemed to dull in their intensity. Despite the danger involved, I had to stop when I thought I recognized a stand of trees I had seen nearly an hour before, and in my mind another crack and heartbeat seemed to pulse out of the abyss. I waited a few sickening moments as they proved themselves to be unsubstantiated, and I gained my bearings once again and moved downward.

Eventually I came upon a large grove of trees and decided I had gone far enough for one day. They wouldn't afford me the shelter that I needed, but I would find shelter within the next hour before....

And I let the thought go with a grateful shove. I would not think any longer on that; not today. That was for my waking hours to fret over, not those of sweet impending rest. The sky overhead began to shift and I fell hard at work on finding a place to calm my bones.