Sometimes, I do crazy things without thinking when there is no time to even hesitate. I hate to give up chances, which I have been doing. The usual thought “how many ten years’ do we have” has been emerging in my brain a lot.
I held my bladder and dashed through the late night of the crowded town area where people stared at my semi formal attire. I slowed down to look at the map but my heavy head refused to tell me how to use it. I continued in my half drunk state, into the darkness at the unfamiliar place. I was very uncertain of the direction. I had never thought of giving up but I prayed hard to have more time. I did not mind suffering longer as sweat began to drench me and I just wished to get to the correct location. The road names gave me fears and I began to doubt my judgment of the direction. It took me great courage to move on when I did not get any text reply. I saw hope when I finally saw the correct road sign but the bus-stop was empty. I dragged on my weary feet and proceeded but the next destination along the same road damped my short-lived happiness. It appeared to be a never-ending road, which I pressed on.
I reached in the nick of time. There was so much for me to celebrate about. It was one of the most memorable and dramatic stories of my life even though I puked and landed myself with bruises on my hand. Then, I realized my calf muscles had long given up on me. I was nervous and too loss on words, but I felt great.
It was not a story about a prince on a white horse but a smelly chap slightly better than being barefooted. There was probably no charisma or a heroic feeling with the shabby looks, but that was far beyond a normal guy could do.
I tried hard and I did well, but the initial goal might be just wrong that I ended up posing problems to everyone.