Elizabeth Dawson

The Least Regarded Act of Kindness

I ran down the road bear-foot in the rain. He had hit me again, and again I found myself running away with the full knowledge I would go back once I had run out of breath. Every four or five steps I felt that rebellious piece of tar that refused to lay flat embed itself in my foot. Yet I continued to run. Running from my despair and anguish into the torrential rain to nowhere.