From door to door.

With troubled bits floating in my head, I decided to go for a run. It was dark as I stepped out of the warmth into the windy evening. I winced, and my body protested with a familiar inertia. I insisted and put up my hood and earphones.

The warmth I took with me from the room still kept me sane as the wind challenged the thickness of my jacket. As I ran into campus grounds, the Gregorian chants of the Brasilian Benedictine monks eased through my earphones. On my left and on my right; fellow students either finishing classes or heading home to prepare for a night out. I jog right past them. Soon, there were getting lesser students. And it got colder too.

Running towards to the far end of campus, I heard the monks' chant more clearly as the surroundings got quiet. No one in sight but for the brake lights of a random parked car. It got colder. I was soon running on the familiar country road I always adored for my 3 years here. But at night, the country road seemed empty and intimidating.

I weaved in and out patches of light from street lamps and darkness. I raised my eyes to the glorious countryside of Coventry's outskirts, but it was now all swallowed by the darkness. Nothing. No stars either. The monks continue to chant. I see double shadows on the ground. I instinctively turn around and fine nothing but the snaking country road; I was casting multiple shadows. I try to smile away my own silliness. Soon, even the buildings were getting smaller in the distance behind me.

There were no longer alternate patches of light; there were no longer shadows as it got totally dark. The street lights were gone. I suddenly here the loudness of my breathing and pounding of the wet ground as my ipod changes tracks and goes silent momentarily. Thankfully, the monks continue to chant. I was pushing myself now to run faster, to finish off the run. I pushed on in the darkness.

Finally, I saw the down slope, and the re-appearance of street lamps. My mind went blank, the chants becoming background noise, and i pushed my lungs as hard as I could down the final slope. I could hear my breathing even through the headphones. I made the final turn and caught sight of the light coming from my kitchen.

I slowed down, feeling the sweat trickle down the side of my face, panting. I took of my hoodie and let the night breeze cleanse me. The monks were still chanting, continuous, ever faithful. The run was over. I had to walk back into my life again, with the bits of troubles here and there. They didn't go away after the run. But perhaps I'm stronger. I don't know what to expect, walking back into my room.

I made the sign of the Cross, and opened the door to my flat.

reminiscing night bus rides back home.

Uncle T