Dead Man Run..‪.‬

Dead Man Run was a year of solitary walks. Before the sun would rise and after it would set, I found myself at specific moments that kept repeating. Although they fell on different days, although I was strong, although I did what I had to do...something dead slithered inside...following to and fro...devouring precious interludes...soiling everything...even imagination... Instead of giving in, I wrote. Writings turned to correspondence as Wilding and I endeavored to give everything...an entire feeling...our shared pains...a name. Dead Man Run: those places of in-between, where photos cannot be taken, where memories do little justice...where tiny moments are full of all we buried...and all we will ever win.