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I was walking backwards through the streets of my life, past a café where green chairs argued with pigeons, baked dough and burnt cheese braided in the breeze. Every person I’ve been this year kept crossing the street in front of me, faces blurry, never looking away, forced to march in algorithm. I stepped off heel-first when my ten-year-old self broke ranks, sprinted up and wrapped me in his arms, “Don’t leave me, please! Not again!” I froze— my heart pinned to the edge of his fear. He looked up, I couldn’t believe it, I tried hard to speak but his grip weakend and broke, I opened my eyes with darkness in my face, and just lay there for awhile.
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Dec 17, 2025
Dec 17, 2025 at 3:38 AM UTC
Sleep Chasing
I was walking backwards through the streets of my life, past a café where green chairs argued with pigeons, baked dough and burnt cheese braided in the breeze. Every person I’ve been this year kept crossing the street in front of me, faces blurry, never looking away, forced to march in algorithm. I stepped off heel-first when my ten-year-old self broke ranks, sprinted up and wrapped me in his arms, “Don’t leave me, please! Not again!” I froze— my heart pinned to the edge of his fear. He looked up, I couldn’t believe it, I tried hard to speak but his grip weakend and broke, I opened my eyes with darkness in my face, and just lay there for awhile.
Inspired by a prompt from Ig: Every person I’ve been this year
IanShatss
Written by
37/M/Nevada
Dec 17, 2025
Dec 17, 2025 at 3:38 AM UTC
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