Born in the Wake

There's never time for more than a shower and, occasionally, a few precious hours of sleep. Then it's back on the road.

The showers are the only time I let my thoughts catch up with me. I cry freely because the water washes it away before anyone can take notice. This is not the time nor the place to be admitting weakness, so it's a perfect setup.

I duck my head under the stream of water, allow myself to think of my family. They're somewhere out there - dead or alive, I'm not sure. We had to split up seven months ago - it was the only way to keep us all safe. Although even that might've been a futile effort, I try not to think about it too much. Just these brief moments of guilt that cut through my bones, only for me to step out of the water and seal the wounds back up with fictional plaster. And then I run again.