writing

On Track

The air crisp against my cheeks; I stare up into the midnight blue sky. Speckles of light dot the night and not a moon to be found.

My heart beats more as I move my feet, one step in front of the other. I work to get on track, to overcome my self-doubt, to shut down that annoying voice.

I get lost watching blinking white and red above; airplanes float above to destinations unknown. A train howls in the distance. The occasional car passes by.

The time passes as the voice begins to quiet down. Thirty minutes later, I find myself standing in front of a well lit house, welcoming me back. I look up to the sky one more time before turning in, and whisper, “Good night.”

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