An Adventure

An impervious sense of freedom washed over as she ran through the trees. She stopped to admire an ant colony, and its efforts to organise themselves over jagged roots.

She then looked up to the sky, and in a blissful moment of solitude, thought to herself: “what’s the point. I put up with this shit every day and I’ve still got like 40 years left. If all goes to plan, I’ve got 40-fucking-years left”.

Lucy had always felt a distinct background Humm of existential dread but at least now she had a plan.

It wasn’t a plan she particularly liked, but it was a start.

She thought about the birds in the trees, singing their songs; the grass beneath her, cladding the soil; and the Russell Terrier, loyal as ever, by her side: how it was all essentially pointless.

She’d had enough of her monotonous life on the dairy farm and was looking for an adventure.

She was determined, and her adventure was short-lived.

The end