I’m Stronger Than Pain

I HAVE THE DREAM AGAIN:

　　Dawn is breaking.

　　Sherlock’s whole body is wagging as he dances in a circle by the front door.

　　We ease out of the house, then bound down the porch steps, turning right when we hit the street to head toward the river.

　　The world is quiet.

　　No cars.

　　No people.

　　No hustle and bustle.

　　Just the rhythmic padding of our feet against pavement.

　　Sherlock is happy beside me. His white fur seems to flow through the morning mist, and he doesn’t miss a beat. I turn, he turns. I speed up, he speeds up. No leash to connect us. No commands to control him. We’re bound by the joy of running.

　　We reach the river, and the air is heavenly. It sparkles my face, washes my lungs, fills me with a sense of fluid motion. I glide beneath the trees, transform into wind.

　　We breeze up to Aggery Bridge and I begin the long sprint across it. My legs and lungs burn, but I welcome the pain.

　　I’m stronger than pain.

　　Sherlock races ahead and I let him. He lives to run the bridge. Reaching two legs forward, kicking two legs back. He waits for me on the other side, wagging, panting, grateful for this stretch of freedom.

　　He falls in beside me as I drop back the pace and glide along the streets, back past familiar houses, back home.

　　On the porch again, he kisses me and pants as I tousle his ears. “Good boy!” I tell him. “You are such a good boy!”

　　The sun is brighter now.

　　Our sleepy neighborhood is stirring, waking up.

　　And then, with a gasp, so do I.

The Running Dream, p33~34
Wendelin Van Draanen
ISBN 978-0-375-86667-8

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