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Short Story

Running (short story)

I am running.

Where is the sun? Behind that cloud? Do I still get UV rays. Strange that looking at the sun can make me blind, yet I see it everywhere. I wonder if it’s worth it. Maybe I’ll try to take a peek.

What a lovely smell, fresh cut grass; fantastic. Yeah, I’ll sit right here, just take it all in, sunny day, people walking, kids playing, why not. These kids here playing on the playground, how lucky they are. I wonder why I ever stopped playing. That idea of free fantasy, how did I lose that. Fuck it. Do I really want to play house? Now I’m living the life I used to fantasize about, what a load of shit. I wonder what am I supposed to dream about now. Play retirement with the other men. Maybe when I’m retired we’ll play pretend death. What a load of shit.

I like those kids playing though, if I can’t do that myself anymore maybe that’s a reason to have kids. I could see that. Imagine going home after work, and there’s all these big studious eyes raptly waiting for my return; taking a break from homework because they really fucking love me. I could actually create things that would love me. I wonder if that’s why some people have children. Make yourself exist by creating things that take note of you.

Fuck, this bench is getting chilly or something, I don’t know, something that makes me not want to sit here any more, so back to walking. It would be nice to somehow have you just know I’m walking. Why do I have to say it? I know that I’m walking.

If I was somehow rich, would I give it away or hoard it all? I think I would want the house and the car, but I’d be weak and tempted and put it in some compound interest shit which would make me so so rich but I would never enjoy it. No, I’m a better poor man maybe.

I wonder if I just ran off this sea wall and into the water if that would be beautiful. I can imagine the scene. A point of view parallel to where I’m running, except already over the water, and my momentum carrying me towards the sea. The logical thing for me to do would be to stop. Anybody watching me would assume I’m just turning late. But then six steps away, with my pace perfect, not a step faster, not a step slower, it would be obvious I’d have no option to stop, I was going into the water. I can see it so ravishingly perfect in my mind. I would keep running in the air, not faster like some fucking treadmilling doll, not slowly, just naturally. For a second there my feet would touch the water and not go through it. I’d be walking on water. Then there would be that wonderful chaos of the splash, and all these people at the railing looking at me, and what I’d do What I’d do is swim forward a bit maybe breast stroke, then turn around and stare at all that confusion and just laugh with genuine pleasure, laugh at the wonders of the world, that such joy exists, that these chains can so easily be slipped. Maybe the people watching it would understand. Maybe it’s something they’d remember.

But oh well, I’m already around that corner, but its a nice thought. I hopped onto this big rock while I was thinking of that story, it was pretty sweet. I wonder if I could run forever. I wonder what would stop me? There must be a pace that I could run forever at. I could drink a bunch of coffee or learn to sleep while I run, and run through the supermarket to buy food, and I could just never stop. That would be life. I’d die, and spent so much time thinking about death in the endless thoughts of a mind casually distracted, and I would meet my maker or die and think of nothing and never know. but if there is something, and they ask why should I be allowed in, did I live a good life, I could answer honestly: yes. I lived beautifully. I was  a force of nature, benevolent but terrible, I was existing as one one. Or all that. I don’t know. It makes a nice amount of sense in how I visualize it. Or really maybe it doesn’t, but a mind must think of everything, wrong thoughts shouldn’t be excluded. If I am knocked down I will pick myself up. If I am a failure I will know my failings.

There’s this woman on this bike going so fast past me, I wonder why. Does she have somewhere to go, is she training, does she think she’s fat. She’s certainly driven. Kudos to that, it’s not the way I’d want to live, but I appreciate its attraction.

I continue running.

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