Men Who Run With Goats.

I am trying to run.

There is a hill, I can manage that, but the car I have to push is draining my energy.

How can you run when you have to push a car?

So I go to the garage, and the car is there in a pit, upside down with no wheels.

And now I am running but the corner is so sharp that I have to stop when a car comes along.

And this goat?

Where did that come from?

Is it following me?

Or with me?

Or me?

Anyways I hold it, and the car goes past.

Now I can take a short cut, but it means climbing a fence.

The owners, who are nearby, might be unhappy.

So I follow the steps that border their property.

And I wake.

Thank god – why was that so difficult?

Did I go to bed too late?

Drink one glass too much?

The morning does not bring joy and lightness.

I feel stuck.

Tied.

I have to go outside and dig a grave.

Does everything have to end?