This is a short story submitted to the Christian Writers and Readers' Club anthology. Its theme is centred on freedom from past guilt and fears. I pray it produces that effect in your life even as you read. •••°°°••• Violet ran, and ran, and ran. But all her running felt like she was treading a giant treadmill on a spot. Like she was a guinea pig, spinning in a miniature Ferris wheel in an iron cage. She couldn't control the panic that clawed at her mind at the onslaught of the hulking beings that plodded close on her heels. How long had it been since she got caught in this cycle of fleeing and snares? It had been ever since she could tell left from right. Ever since she was little and her cowardice had resulted in the death of her mother. Violet could feel her lungs constricting. Her breaths came out in short wheezes and loud gasps for oxygen. The nipping air enveloped her, ruffling her thick, curly hair and lacy dress, not in the nicest of way...
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