Just You and Me
Sylas felt that it was hard to see anything other than the step before him. They were very manageable, only six inches tall, so short that even a toddler could walk up them without handrails to rely on.
But they still consumed his vision. He couldn't even see the step beyond, just the one right in front of him. That and the foot he slowly raised to press onto it.
One foot after another, one focused bit of attention swapped for another focused bit of attention.
If not for the winds cutting across his flesh, he would have completely lost himself, his beaten and battered body becoming nothing more than an afterthought.
He remembered this sort of feeling, this experience. Whenever he went on a long run or had a particularly grueling boxing session, he would forget about everything.