I've been doing some rearranging of my possessions and stumbled across some forgotten notebooks filled with mostly unfinished work. Most of it is embarrassingly bad but I did find this short story. I genuinely can't remember if I ever planned on continuing the story or if it was always going to be this brief, but I do recall it was inspired by a writing prompt I saw on Facebook.
It doesn't seem to have ever been given a title so I'll just call it Untitled Short Story circa 2018.
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The sun beat down on the dusty road as I trudged forward, my backpack heavy on my shoulders. Sweat dripped down my face and I longed for the cool relief of the river that flowed just out of sight. I had been walking for hours and my feet ached, but I knew I couldn't stop. I had to get to the next town before nightfall. As I walked, my thoughts turned to Maria. I could still see her face, her dark eyes filled with tears as I left. I knew I was breaking her heart by going, but I had to do it. I had to see the world, to feel the wind in my hair and the sun on my face. I had to know that there was more out there than the small village we had grown up in. Finally, as the sun began to sink below the horizon, I saw the glint of water in the distance. I quickened my pace, my thirst and fatigue forgotten. As I reached the river, I collapsed to my knees and plunged my face into the cool, clear water. It was the most refreshing thing I had ever tasted. As I sat there, drinking my fill, I knew that I had made the right decision. I had left everything I knew behind, but it was worth it for this moment of pure, unadulterated freedom. I knew that no matter what the future held, I would always carry this moment with me, a reminder of the endless possibilities that lay ahead.
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