There are blue skies, but I'm irritated.
I stare out into the aqua blue, waiting for its calm to take effect on my soul.
I'm sure Daniel knows I'm on edge, but I'm tucking it deep inside.
Now and then, it comes out in a snap, that I try to breathe back in too late.
I'm hormonal, and annoyed, and maybe still adjusting to life back home.
I ran tonight. The first since Phnom Penh, nearly two weeks ago.
I'm running along the bay, but I'm seeing the river.
That dirty river we saw being used as a toilet. The one with the fishing boats.
I blink as I run, and I'm back here. Dusk falls fast, windsurfers depleting their sails.
My legs ache. I'm annoyed that my fitness declined, I'm irritated with my singlet strap that keeps falling from my shoulder, and the cords from my earphones flap around and get caught on my hands as I jog.
I run until I'm exhausted, realising I've been running into headwind for 15 minutes.
I turn at the halfway mark and breathe thanks.
Thanks for here for now, for my suburb, my city, my Phnom Penh.
And the wind behind me hurtles me forward.
And I realise that sometimes we just have to turn. Let Him do the work.
And keep going.
I arrive home in the dark. Fired up. Outside and in.