The Other Marathoner

The rain departs with attention of the deceased soldier. Dead, tired, shrunk down in ego in victory that rested today. For five days she fought, prepared through hurdles, obligations to duty to her family, to her estate. In tears, sweat, covered in dirt and blood in lieu of her humanity for survival, the vigor granted by the shining glory coming in the streaks of the first sun when the smoke of the battlefield cleared. When the rotten burning corpses faltered over the spiked hidden in the dirt traps. The beguiling feeling of survival now rests on her shoulders. To make it home, tell everyone. To announce they’ve lost. They’re gone.