Are you the hero of your story?
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My body is streaked with sweat and dirt from my desperate search to find safe shelter.
I’m barefoot, in a grimy torn t-shirt and shorts; my hands and feet caked with dirt.
My hair is filthy and matted. My mouth is dry; I can smell and taste the gritty dust that hangs in the air.
I sit down on a curb at the side of the road, and I know it’s over.
All the questions are answered.
I’m unbelievably weary, all my energy spent in the act of sitting down.
I’m devastated…emotionally, mentally, and physically, and the worst of my wounds are invisible
And I will heal. I’m Okay, I will heal.
My eyes fill up, but no tears fall. I can only sit amid the rubble, trusting the safety of the gray, silent sky.
But I made it up the many, unforgiving mountain climbs.
I’m on the other…
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