Today, I evaded the antagonist. I was hiding beneath the floor planking, the dirt of their boots falling through the cracks of the deck onto me. I did not even breathe so much because I could easily be detected.
It is pure exhaustion when I contemplate tomorrow, tomorrow, and tomorrow. There is no finish line in my sight, only the battle and the fight of the day, the hour and the moment.
If I stop rowing, the current takes me to the heart of what I wish to avoid. I am summoned as a child to indulgence. My own personal Gestapo seizes me, dragging me out of the building as I cling to furniture, walls, and door frames in futility.
Every time I think I might be a mile ahead of them, I learn they are 100 ahead of me, and I am in hostile territory. Will I ever find peace?
Where is there one night's sleep? Where is there even an hour of rest? If I close my eyes, I worry about where I will be when they open.
I know in my heart there is only one way through this. I have known all along. The opposition, the fight, the war, and the victory all live within me.
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