I fought the rain. It slashed at my bare arms and legs, water streaming down my head into my eyes, threatening my vision. When I felt I couldn’t fight it any longer, I saw The Fence. My legs felt like lead and my chest was aching, but I made myself run to the hole in the barbed wire. I dove through it and sunk under a near pine tree. I shivered in my wet clothes and tried to calm my breathing to a normal pace, although I suspect my heart was racing from more than just running.

Now, I am a fugitive. I lay my head against the wood of the tree, trying to stop the water droplets from my hair from trickling down my bare back. I caught a flash of lightening on the neighbouring hills...I hope it doesn’t come down here. I now know I will never be free. I thought I would, but now I see I can’t be, ever. I’ll always be running, hiding. I’ll never be free.

***
The rain is pouring down even harder.
The branches of my pine tree create a bit of a covering, but big drops of rain still hammer down on my head. They seem to get bigger and heavier every minute, even after the couple of hours I’ve been here. I have to stop writing, now, because the paper is getting saturated.
The lightening is getting closer.

***

Found on the body of Kay Charles, 9th of May, 1898, Glasgow