The hill

I groan at the view of the hill, and have no idea what's hidden behind it, but my heart doesn't want me to go back. The air fills my chest with difficulty and two wrinkles dance on my forehead. When did it all change and when did I become who I am,

I asked the tree when I curled up under its shadow. I have felt a lot, but this feeling kicking in my chest is new

and haunts me as I continue my journey,

my only friend, my enemy and my companion.

Alexandra Sotiropoulou