Woke up crazy early this morning. Sun wasn’t officially up and I’m on the road in quest of my 10K steps. Walked beyond my ordinary route, up the hill, into the woods for no other reason than I didn’t feel like turning around. It had been a tough night.
Thinking it might be a good idea to squeeze in a meditation before heading back, I sat on a log. Took a breath. The customary thrum of anxiety quieted. An image of a tick, worst yet, a spider creeping up my back seemed to dissolve with my next exhale.
I was almost reaching stasis, the point at which indifference outweighs nervous anticipation when I heard the unmistakable sound of footsteps. A voice shouted, HEY YOU!
I register the vague glint of metal. I’m on the run. I can hear him…it’s got to be a him…drawing closer. He’s waving the butt of his rifle…IT’S A RIFLE!!
Which is when I veer off the trail. Jump straight into the deep marsh below.