Water went up with a great splashing sound as your foot slipped from the rock and entered the icy stream. You did not even notice it; the hot sweat was running in streaks across your back. Your hair was plastered to your forehead with a strange mixture of sweat and blood.
You did mind one thing, though. You realized it when you stood back on the solid ground and rapid pumping of your blood was accompanied by loud squelching coming from your shoe.
The water you carried there was slowing you down. And tiny panicky voice in your head was having hysterics.
I never knew if you were truly afraid, Olivia. You seemed to handle the situation sickeningly well. Sweet, tired smiles. Funny talk. Cup of tea. You didn't want coffee, even though you expressed a wish to have time for some. You missed the taste.
The run was your life. This is not some silly phrase like "I can't live without playing music." It's very, very accurate. Very precise. Very literally meant.
I knew you only for one afternoon.