Face bruised, half covered in sand, legs hurting, breathing heavy, on the verge of giving up…
“Don’t you give up you quitter or you’ll not succeed” A voice past the finish line yelled.
Picks up again, sees people starting much later and going past him with ease…
wondered what is wrong with him.
“This happens with everybody in the beginning.
You’re not a total idiot you’re just a little duller, a late bloomer”
He started running again despite all the suffering,
ran a few steps tripped over,
fell flat with face hitting the rugged road,
started running again, tripped after few steps,
pushed himself to get up and started again,
It’s as if his feet are tied together and
can’t stretch much further and tripping him everytime he tries to run.
“Stop giving reasons to justify your incompetence”
Despised at the word, picked up all his courage started again,
fell down, feet feeling the pain of a sheet being ripped apart.
“Stop making up stuff.
I know you’re faking it…
Keep running that’s the only way to succeed” said the voice with a sense of certainty.
This time it was not just his body but also his morale started to bruise every time he fell,
after few more rises and falls he’s all in
but resisted to give up despised at the thought of being called called a quitter.
He tried again and again, and again only to torture himself even more.
As his iron clad will perished and last morsel of self esteem succumbed to the agony,
finally gave up and bowed down head for the first time
to discover that he has not limbs but fins.