The last time I saw her, she was running with her little dog in the park just outside their apartment, the two of them laughing and talking as they ran, their arms swinging wildly.
I knew how much those few days meant to her.
She was so happy then—so happy.
I wonder if it's over now and if she feels whole again. I know she must. They say that what goes around comes.
YOU ARE READING
End of Rush Anthology
PoetryHave you ever felt so distracted by work that you had no time to enjoy your life? You've found that every day is a blur of deadlines and stress. Every evening you come home exhausted and ready to collapse, but still have to suffer through more work...
