Tuesday, August 24, 2004
The midnight runner flights past old yellow streetlights, crooked pavements, dimlit corners and dew-laden turfs, pondering faces, places, memories, abstractions through gasps for fresh air viva into the lungs that give him life, while winds of the night crowd and surge by, and darkness bestows a blank slate for unfettered thoughts.
You know, I never knew running at night would be such a neat experience.
You know, I never knew running at night would be such a neat experience.
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