Wapun Meadow some boys hate themselves. spend their lives resenting their fathers

dated during this (March 22nd)

Abel continued to run and run and run. Even as the scent of the border faded (a detail he failed to realize in his urgency) his pace never slowed.
His ears were pinned to the side of his skull. His eyes were anywhere but forward. Through his blurred peripheral he watched for any pursuers. Through the sound of wind rushing over his body he listened for their drumming footfalls.