Some say if you stare down a road long enough, it the start to stare back. It will start to fill you mind with the blackness of its tar in weird shapes and demons that only dreams can create. Hurdles become walls to scale and walls become towers to climb in search of the one crack in a freshly paved road.
The empty road can only stare back at you for so long before it wins its daily battle of life and death; encompassing you mind and body into a single point of failure where there should be two. As the bleakness of the road envelops the mind and the doubt creeps in, the only saving grace is the unwavering rhythm of your stride striking blow after blow against its repressor. A step here, a crack there, and finally a break in the wall.
Yes, the road fights back. It fights back with its twists, turns, and relentless hills, aiming to remain uncharted and unconquered. Aiming to remain tranquil and quiet. Aiming to remain wild and free. Free of dust, cracks and cars. Free of the steady rhythm of your stride. Aiming to remain that empty road you discovered long ago.
As the road and the sky begin to crack, the light shining through is not an unfamiliar one, as the road has been conquered before. As the rhythm begins to take over, the blackness fades away while the street lamps give way to the sun. And once again, the empty road is no longer empty again.