Story of a not-so-avid hiker

Any writer, artist, dancer or actor will tell you that most art comes from pain. Not that I am trying to create the next artistic masterpiece. But this story has a huge amount of pain. The pain is mostly confined to my calves and chest. Also like all stories, this one has an introduction, a body and a conclusion.

So a few weeks ago I decided that it was time. Time to take my health and exercise to a new level, or well at least to an existing level. So in an attempt to do this, I decided to organise a hike. Now if you don’t know me you can speak to the people who do know me, hiking is as far removed from me, as calculus is removed from a 5-year-old. But up I went…

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A letter from exile

Dear John Martin

Years have passed since these events took place and I hope to bestow a form of thankfulness towards you. I was quite young around the whole Y2K sensation, I think you found some form of pleasure from the whole world is worried about the clocks not turning to zero. In this letter, I am writing about the lessons I learnt from my encounters with you. I hope in return you will see the victories that I have achieved in spite of your presence in my life. My hope is that this letter containing details about my personal exile will free others from this kind of exile, social exile.

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