Fast Forward

It was his favorite spot to run.

His friends would always want to play tag behind his house. They'd play for hours, laughing and cheering each other one as they ran, pursued by whoever was it. From sun up to sun down, they'd be in the yard, zig zagging, back and forth, running from one another - not a care in the world.

He loved it, how the wind would howl in his ears, pushing his hair back away from his eyes as his legs pumped below him like pistons in a revved up motor.

He was never worried. Not many could catch up to him and for those who could, he'd run to his spot. The edge of the property where the trees made a enclosed path, like a hallway.

He'd sprint as fast as his little legs could carry him, darting in and out of the trees - sometimes doubling back, but always returning to the center, to run pure and free, gain as much speed as he could.

There was no greater feeling for him than to be charging down that leaved, mossy tunnel, the wind whooshing, trees whipping by - that's when the world seemed to blur around him.

That's when he felt invincible.