It Gets So Lonely Here

You are running through a forest. It is late at night and the sky is as black as pitch. The trees which surround you, jutting out of the earth like eerie monuments to a foreign god, are blotting out most of the moonlight. You do not know where you are going. You have no map; no route; no plan. You have no desire, as you run, save to escape. You cannot let yourself be caught. All you can do is run, on and on and on... But, despite all of your hard work, your best efforts will, invariably, be in vain. It’s already too late for you. After all... You’ll never be able to escape from me.

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