Dreaming. Walking. Running.
Falling. Running. Dreaming.
Then, I feel the bump as race steps into me; the blood dripping as race clips my heel, but not my wings.
Back on track, l learned that I must run both looking to the left and the right… and always over my shoulder.
*** Race is still a factor in people’s interactions throughout the world. These are the silent words of those affected. Written in response to the “Fifty” Writing challenge.***