The Inescapable Reality of Life

Pit-pat, pit-pat.

Her feet hit the ground quickly as her breathing remains erratic and heavy. Eyes wide, she glances—just for a moment—behind her, but already that has wasted too much time. She turns and continues running, her heart racing a million miles an hour as she struggles to stay ahead of The Thing. Tears streak down her cheeks but she has no time for sadness, no time to get away. She knows it is too late.

The Thing drudges behind her, a mass of darkness and souls consumed by its terror. The Thing brings only gloom, despair, and agony, a trifecta of anguish as each day grows more and more terrible, even after she thinks that the days are as worse as they could be.

She would be wrong.

Life creates only The Trifeta of Anguish, the misery of life, and we must continually run from it, until the day that we are consumed by its damning grasp and released into Eternal Rest.