I stop only a fleeting moment. Short, sharp breaths fill my lungs and I try to catch them. My jittery eyes dart around, continually searching for my pursuers. I spot one; his hungry gaze bearing down on me. Anxious arms stretch out as he sprints in my direction. My feet kick up dust as I zag away from his clumsy attempt to capture me.
This chase seems eternal but deep inside I know I’ll lose. But I can still hope. There is salvation. The myth we all know—the president will pardon one of us for Thanksgiving. It could be me.