Running

She loved running in the quiet of the early morning hours, when the world was still asleep, the silence punctuated sharply by the sound of her feet rhythmically tapping the pavement. The cold air flowing into and out of her lungs purified her, washing away the residue of yet another soulless night. She blew out forcefully, pushing her thoughts toward the day ahead. She was busy, busy, always busy, keeping any thought of death at bay.