Strings of Glass

The road crumbled under my feet as I ran up the incline. There is no road surface strong enough to resist the return to dirt in this climate.

Blue touched my thigh with his nose, a gentle tap to remind me he was there. Thick jungle lined our path. This hill had the fewest homes on our route. No neighbors to wave a hello to or children to smile at as they raced by on bikes either too large or too small for them. There was just me, Blue, the burst of vegetat...