(Seventy-five days of writing.  I don’t know what to say.  This one is from Imogen Heap.)

Where are we? What the hell is going on?

They belong together
He, the enthusiastic chaser of dreams believed solved
She, a beautiful soul in the safest haven she could imagine.
Locked in a game where there is no winner
Only
“I found you”
Or
“You couldn’t find me. You’re just like the others.”
Or
“I stopped searching. You’re not like the others.”

Prayers asking to give her time to hide
Assuring her he’d rediscover her where she was ready or not
Ready or not
The effectiveness of her sanctuary were put to the test.
The pursuit of happiness dependent upon who knows who best.
Pulses quicken
The closer he gets
Her nerves twitch in the unknown
Could he be the one to peel back her refuge and show her that no matter where she goes to retreat to herself
He’ll eventually find her.