the day after christmas i took a walk in the woods at dusk. i felt a city of eyes staring, none of which i could see. i walked among them, an obstreperous visitor uninvited. beneath the rustling wind in the trees, i thought i heard the pounding of drums. perhaps it was the rhythm of nature. it beckoned me to run, so i ran. i ran not from death, but toward life. i did not plan to run, but i ran. i ran until the end of my path. i watched the puffs of air float languidly toward the sky, and realized this was not the end, simply where the path stopped.