I might take a nap. I might run 20 miles. I may have a fever and a cough but that won't keep me from climbing a mountain. That bone might be broken or just bruised - it's pretty swollen. But if I take tiny skip-like steps I can progress. I can travel. Carrying this body forward through the wind, into the sun. Climbing up above the city and everyone. If I keep my knees bent I can even run a little. Trotting along slower than a walk. This is my possibility. This is all I have. It is the plank cast off from the shipwreck to which I cling. If I just hang on long enough fate might shine down upon me and bring another piece of wood to which I can fasten the first. Build upon it. What the future holds I do not know. All I know is what I can do. And what I can do is to hold on, hope, and continue.