Today we write about: the pursuit.
Hmm, it appears to be December. How odd. I'm quite sure I didn't give my approval for it to be here yet.
I've been running for as long as I can remember. Lately though, the days have been blurring together worse than usual. Used to be I could tell ya the day of the week; now I'm lucky if I get the month right. I suppose it's just a matter of time before I lose track of the year.
I'd stop for a rest, get my bearings if I could. But they won't let me. I can't sleep because they don't sleep. Not sure how they manage it, or why they think I'm worth the damned bother, but there you go and here I am. Exhausted.
Heard tell they think I stole something from 'em. Great joke, that is, with all the thieving they do. You'd think they'd hire me to work for 'em if that was the case. Help 'em rob every last penny from their slaves.
Pardon, I mean subjects. They don't like it when you call 'em slaves. Implication being that would make 'em slave owners, and that's just bad PR, ya know?
Anyway, the point is I didn't take nothing from 'em that wasn't already mine. Not that I'll ever get the chance to explain that. They'll have five bullets in me before I can even open my mouth.
Shame, too, cuz I've got some choice words in mind for 'em.
Though I'm so tired it might be a challenge to get 'em in the right order.
What I need is a place to hide, but there ain't nowhere safe left for the likes of me. Reward for my capture is too big; nary a soul to be trusted with that kinda gold being bandied about.
Guess I best keep running then.