Word Sprint
Exercise #1
11/30/13
Mikey knew he was being followed.
He didn’t want them to know that he knew, so he kept walking. With speed. Hopefully not fast enough that they might think he saw them, but fast enough as if he was in a hurry to get somewhere.
He knew he might be able to out run them for a while, but there were five of them, and one of them might catch up with him. Though he was small, he was thin and nimble and yes, you guessed it, quick. But where he was in the inner city, there wasn’t much too run to. There were blocks of fences, blocking off access to the washes, man-made, riverless, smooth concrete gorges. Another monument glorifying the epidemic of humanity’s ironic and absurd nature. Beyond that, there were what appeared to be abandoned buildings and storage garages. There was nowhere to go but to keep going, and to act like he was going somewhere. But for now, he just kept keeping on, just to give him time to think. His heart was hammering in his chest. Hopefully walking long enough will give me time to calm down. Maybe I should use this opportunity while my veins are pumping with adrenaline to do something about my predicament before I get too tired to run or fight back or… I don’t know, anything?
He glanced behind him as if to scratch his neck. He saw them. Four guys and one girl. There was a girl? Maybe they aren’t following me. Maybe they won’t hurt me. Why would a girl be with them? A girl wouldn’t help guys beat up a little kid too, would she? Then again, when hadn’t women been the bane of his existence? He gulped, recalling all his greatest failures and most shameful moments. All caused by a woman. Thanks Mom for setting the example. She had always taught him how to run. He only had a few memories of her, but he learned most from her example by her lack of presence. She had skipped out on the family when he was six, and since then he had learned how to live like her. He had learned how to run. He was so fast he should have joined track. But he hated being around people. They gave him immense anxiety. The only calm he ever remembered was the memories of his mother. But with her gone, so too was that. And they were gaining on him. Shit. Around the corner he went, but they followed his movement. They stayed back at a respectable distance, but they were like a shadow. No. More like a leech, never leaving him. His damn dad. Never giving him a break. He never thought much of me. Even before his stroke, I never gave a damn about him. I wish I wasn’t so weak in his presence. But he never left me. Like a looming tower, always judging the littlest of my actions, as if I was a no good bug, the scum of the planet. And he personally made sure I knew that, every morning. He thought he was so kind. So helpful. After mom left, he helped me with everything. I don’t need his help. He turned around another corner, streaming his fingers against the brick, but the firm building was cold and no comfort or stability. He kept walking in the shadow, but he knew they persisted. Just like Father. He never stopped nagging me about how I was doing it wrong. I was never good enough. He thought he was so kind. He helped me with everything, as if I couldn’t breathe without him. As if I was a cripple, and he was my cane. My chair. Well I sat on him. I didn’t know what to do otherwise. He thought I was lazy. He didn’t know. Or maybe he did. I was chasing after Mom.
He crossed the street, giving up all hope of hiding his knowledge of their pursuit. Around the next bend, maybe there’ll be somewhere I can hide. I can’t keep running. But I’m like my mother. I can keep running. Shit. It is a girl. They are pissed. What the hell did I do to them? I don’t even know the dudes. But damn they’re big. And I’m so small. But I’m nimble. Wait. And then he saw it. A tall shadow rush around the bend. Mother. He booked around, throwing his back pack to the side. Maybe that’s what they want. I don’t care. Take my books. He heard pounding shoes against asphalt, and he knew they pursued him with great speed. But he didn’t care. He was running after her. Around the slab, past dead bushes and up the dirt road. But only tumble weeds. And a long, endless chain linked fence. No trespassing. More damn concrete riverless rivers. He stopped, panting. But I’m just like you, Mom. I can’t stop. He saw them, closing in. He could see the whites of their eyes. He could see her. She was angry. Fuming. Desperate. Longing. Fuck it. He threw his wallet out of his pocket at them. You can have it! I don’t want it. Just leave me alone!
He booked it toward the fence. Get him! Don’t let him get away! He kicked off the fence, but it clanked and ricocheted him off of it. He rebounded, his tail bone smack against the rock hard gravel. Dust rose. Don’t bury me. I’m not helpless. I won’t sit on my ass. That’s not me, Dad. Even though I sat on you as you coughed for air, I won’t be lazy. I’ll make something of myself. You always thought I was useless. I wouldn’t amount to anything. He got up, lunging for the chains as their hands gripped towards him to chain him down. He wouldn’t let them hold him down. He jumped for the fence, clawing his way up. Blood ripped from his finger nails as he slipped, but his kicking propelled him up. He didn’t stop when he reached the top. He fumbled, toppling over the barbs, and fell.
Smack his shoulder broke, and he rolled down the concrete hill. Damn I wish this was a grass hill. Dizzy he vomited as he rolled, but he rolled too fast. Splash! He ran into a puddle at the base and bits of gravel imbedded themselves into his palms. Well that was peachy. There were screams from above. Chains clashed. They were climbing after him. But the beating had already come. I’m the the master. I’ve hurt myself far more than you could. A shadow passed over his face. Too large to be a gull. He looked up, but they were only just climbing over. It couldn’t have been them. But they were so big, and she was so small. And yet she was the biggest of them all. So menacing. His biggest threat. She couldn’t get over the fence.
He looked away, down the wash. It was long and far around the river bend, splitting off like a fork in several directions. He knew the shadow could never have been quick enough to make it that far, but he knew it was his mother. And he knew she had gone down there. He knew it. Don’t worry Mom! I’m coming. He got up, despite the immense pain. He hobbled at first, limping from pain, his arm just swaying in place, but he quickly sprinted into a skip. I know it’s you Mom! I’ll catch up. I know you left, but I’ll reach you. I know when you left it was morning, but I know you’ve found a nice home. One where you don’t feel weak. And you’ve set the table. I know it’s nearly sunset now. I’m coming home for dinner. I swear! I’ll catch up. But he heard feet moving faster than they should, and he knew they were falling down the slope. They’d level out and soon be on the flat ground, same as him. They were bigger, those damn adults, and they’d be on him soon. But they didn’t know. He took after his mother. He was a runner. No matter how much they pressed down on him, they couldn’t hold him down. Cause he kept moving. Almost there. Just a little farther, and he’d be around the wash.
Down the fork. I’m coming. The woman was screaming. Don’t let him get away. Please! But he didn’t care. She was small. Weak. She was still above, but she was far away. Far back. She hadn’t been able to get over the fence. See. No woman is a true threat. Even though he was most terrified of the short girl, he was far younger. Faster. She didn’t know who he took after.
Mikey, stop! You are under…! But he yelled. Screams that were more a cough, full of excitement. He coughed up mucus and spittle of blood. But he knew he wasn’t that hurt. Not as hurt as his father. He made sure his father knew. He wasn’t lazy. That was the last time I ever sat. Your chest heaved, but I made sure that the stroke took you. Besides. I was too little to reach for the phone. It was too high. I’m no longer beneath you. Who needs help now? He tripped. How had I not seen it. A damn shopping cart. He couldn’t even see very well anymore, his vision blurring from the snare an old homeless man left, probably. He wiped his hand through his hair, whipping it back. Sweat and mud.
Now he crawled. The footsteps hammered behind him, but his heart wavered. I’m strong. I’m not lazy. I have to keep running. Just a little bit further. There it was. Around the corner. Down the fork. A bridge. Beneath it, was endless shadow. She must be there. Don’t you know? Mom! Don’t you see how fast I am. I keep running. Just like you. But I’ll catch up. You’ll get tired before I do. The men lunged on him, pulling him to his feet like a little rag doll. I’m no girl. Screams from just ahead. Don’t touch him! He’s mine! I’ll take him. He knew he was doomed now. It was the girl. She was right ahead. Must have hopped over the fence near the bridge and tumbled down the wash. One of the men ran over to her, panicked. She was on her knees from the fall. She was weak. If he could just get free from the men, he would have no problem out running her. So he began kicking. Running in place. The men in black were tall, but they didn’t know. They don’t know how fast I am. I’m just like my mom.
One dropped him, the other trying to hold him. He knelt down, hugging the earth, and kicked up. His sneaker connected with the cop’s nose, and blood flew forth. The man in a trench coat grabbed for him, but the man must have forgotten how small Mikey was. He ran under his legs, came out on the other side, but he came out on the wrong side. The bridge was behind him, and another cop was right before him. He ran around the three of them, running for the shadow under the bridge. No. The girl is there. She was helped up by the other cop. Don’t hurt him! He’s mine. Bring him to me!
No! He screamed. She was in his way. How would he get under the bridge. The shadows were calling for him, but his feet knew he had to keep moving. You don’t know. I’m like her. I’m a runner. I’m like my mom. But he was too weak. They picked him up, and everything but his legs went limp. But his legs just kept kicking. They carried him towards her. Or she came towards him. No! You can’t catch me. I’m too fast. I’m a runner. I’ll catch her first. I’m so close. Mom, wait for me!
The girl came in close. She was short and thin like him, but she wasn’t as nimble as he thought she was. She was young for a woman, but her wrinkles gave her away. She reached to strangle him, but the cops wouldn’t let her. I just want to hold him! I just want to hold my baby!
I kicked her away though. I’m no baby. I wouldn’t let her strangle me. That was Dad’s way. No. Her hugs were fleeting like the wind. I was too weak to get away though.
But you don’t understand! You can’t catch me. I’m a runner like my mom.
11/30/13
Mikey knew he was being followed.
He didn’t want them to know that he knew, so he kept walking. With speed. Hopefully not fast enough that they might think he saw them, but fast enough as if he was in a hurry to get somewhere.
He knew he might be able to out run them for a while, but there were five of them, and one of them might catch up with him. Though he was small, he was thin and nimble and yes, you guessed it, quick. But where he was in the inner city, there wasn’t much too run to. There were blocks of fences, blocking off access to the washes, man-made, riverless, smooth concrete gorges. Another monument glorifying the epidemic of humanity’s ironic and absurd nature. Beyond that, there were what appeared to be abandoned buildings and storage garages. There was nowhere to go but to keep going, and to act like he was going somewhere. But for now, he just kept keeping on, just to give him time to think. His heart was hammering in his chest. Hopefully walking long enough will give me time to calm down. Maybe I should use this opportunity while my veins are pumping with adrenaline to do something about my predicament before I get too tired to run or fight back or… I don’t know, anything?
He glanced behind him as if to scratch his neck. He saw them. Four guys and one girl. There was a girl? Maybe they aren’t following me. Maybe they won’t hurt me. Why would a girl be with them? A girl wouldn’t help guys beat up a little kid too, would she? Then again, when hadn’t women been the bane of his existence? He gulped, recalling all his greatest failures and most shameful moments. All caused by a woman. Thanks Mom for setting the example. She had always taught him how to run. He only had a few memories of her, but he learned most from her example by her lack of presence. She had skipped out on the family when he was six, and since then he had learned how to live like her. He had learned how to run. He was so fast he should have joined track. But he hated being around people. They gave him immense anxiety. The only calm he ever remembered was the memories of his mother. But with her gone, so too was that. And they were gaining on him. Shit. Around the corner he went, but they followed his movement. They stayed back at a respectable distance, but they were like a shadow. No. More like a leech, never leaving him. His damn dad. Never giving him a break. He never thought much of me. Even before his stroke, I never gave a damn about him. I wish I wasn’t so weak in his presence. But he never left me. Like a looming tower, always judging the littlest of my actions, as if I was a no good bug, the scum of the planet. And he personally made sure I knew that, every morning. He thought he was so kind. So helpful. After mom left, he helped me with everything. I don’t need his help. He turned around another corner, streaming his fingers against the brick, but the firm building was cold and no comfort or stability. He kept walking in the shadow, but he knew they persisted. Just like Father. He never stopped nagging me about how I was doing it wrong. I was never good enough. He thought he was so kind. He helped me with everything, as if I couldn’t breathe without him. As if I was a cripple, and he was my cane. My chair. Well I sat on him. I didn’t know what to do otherwise. He thought I was lazy. He didn’t know. Or maybe he did. I was chasing after Mom.
He crossed the street, giving up all hope of hiding his knowledge of their pursuit. Around the next bend, maybe there’ll be somewhere I can hide. I can’t keep running. But I’m like my mother. I can keep running. Shit. It is a girl. They are pissed. What the hell did I do to them? I don’t even know the dudes. But damn they’re big. And I’m so small. But I’m nimble. Wait. And then he saw it. A tall shadow rush around the bend. Mother. He booked around, throwing his back pack to the side. Maybe that’s what they want. I don’t care. Take my books. He heard pounding shoes against asphalt, and he knew they pursued him with great speed. But he didn’t care. He was running after her. Around the slab, past dead bushes and up the dirt road. But only tumble weeds. And a long, endless chain linked fence. No trespassing. More damn concrete riverless rivers. He stopped, panting. But I’m just like you, Mom. I can’t stop. He saw them, closing in. He could see the whites of their eyes. He could see her. She was angry. Fuming. Desperate. Longing. Fuck it. He threw his wallet out of his pocket at them. You can have it! I don’t want it. Just leave me alone!
He booked it toward the fence. Get him! Don’t let him get away! He kicked off the fence, but it clanked and ricocheted him off of it. He rebounded, his tail bone smack against the rock hard gravel. Dust rose. Don’t bury me. I’m not helpless. I won’t sit on my ass. That’s not me, Dad. Even though I sat on you as you coughed for air, I won’t be lazy. I’ll make something of myself. You always thought I was useless. I wouldn’t amount to anything. He got up, lunging for the chains as their hands gripped towards him to chain him down. He wouldn’t let them hold him down. He jumped for the fence, clawing his way up. Blood ripped from his finger nails as he slipped, but his kicking propelled him up. He didn’t stop when he reached the top. He fumbled, toppling over the barbs, and fell.
Smack his shoulder broke, and he rolled down the concrete hill. Damn I wish this was a grass hill. Dizzy he vomited as he rolled, but he rolled too fast. Splash! He ran into a puddle at the base and bits of gravel imbedded themselves into his palms. Well that was peachy. There were screams from above. Chains clashed. They were climbing after him. But the beating had already come. I’m the the master. I’ve hurt myself far more than you could. A shadow passed over his face. Too large to be a gull. He looked up, but they were only just climbing over. It couldn’t have been them. But they were so big, and she was so small. And yet she was the biggest of them all. So menacing. His biggest threat. She couldn’t get over the fence.
He looked away, down the wash. It was long and far around the river bend, splitting off like a fork in several directions. He knew the shadow could never have been quick enough to make it that far, but he knew it was his mother. And he knew she had gone down there. He knew it. Don’t worry Mom! I’m coming. He got up, despite the immense pain. He hobbled at first, limping from pain, his arm just swaying in place, but he quickly sprinted into a skip. I know it’s you Mom! I’ll catch up. I know you left, but I’ll reach you. I know when you left it was morning, but I know you’ve found a nice home. One where you don’t feel weak. And you’ve set the table. I know it’s nearly sunset now. I’m coming home for dinner. I swear! I’ll catch up. But he heard feet moving faster than they should, and he knew they were falling down the slope. They’d level out and soon be on the flat ground, same as him. They were bigger, those damn adults, and they’d be on him soon. But they didn’t know. He took after his mother. He was a runner. No matter how much they pressed down on him, they couldn’t hold him down. Cause he kept moving. Almost there. Just a little farther, and he’d be around the wash.
Down the fork. I’m coming. The woman was screaming. Don’t let him get away. Please! But he didn’t care. She was small. Weak. She was still above, but she was far away. Far back. She hadn’t been able to get over the fence. See. No woman is a true threat. Even though he was most terrified of the short girl, he was far younger. Faster. She didn’t know who he took after.
Mikey, stop! You are under…! But he yelled. Screams that were more a cough, full of excitement. He coughed up mucus and spittle of blood. But he knew he wasn’t that hurt. Not as hurt as his father. He made sure his father knew. He wasn’t lazy. That was the last time I ever sat. Your chest heaved, but I made sure that the stroke took you. Besides. I was too little to reach for the phone. It was too high. I’m no longer beneath you. Who needs help now? He tripped. How had I not seen it. A damn shopping cart. He couldn’t even see very well anymore, his vision blurring from the snare an old homeless man left, probably. He wiped his hand through his hair, whipping it back. Sweat and mud.
Now he crawled. The footsteps hammered behind him, but his heart wavered. I’m strong. I’m not lazy. I have to keep running. Just a little bit further. There it was. Around the corner. Down the fork. A bridge. Beneath it, was endless shadow. She must be there. Don’t you know? Mom! Don’t you see how fast I am. I keep running. Just like you. But I’ll catch up. You’ll get tired before I do. The men lunged on him, pulling him to his feet like a little rag doll. I’m no girl. Screams from just ahead. Don’t touch him! He’s mine! I’ll take him. He knew he was doomed now. It was the girl. She was right ahead. Must have hopped over the fence near the bridge and tumbled down the wash. One of the men ran over to her, panicked. She was on her knees from the fall. She was weak. If he could just get free from the men, he would have no problem out running her. So he began kicking. Running in place. The men in black were tall, but they didn’t know. They don’t know how fast I am. I’m just like my mom.
One dropped him, the other trying to hold him. He knelt down, hugging the earth, and kicked up. His sneaker connected with the cop’s nose, and blood flew forth. The man in a trench coat grabbed for him, but the man must have forgotten how small Mikey was. He ran under his legs, came out on the other side, but he came out on the wrong side. The bridge was behind him, and another cop was right before him. He ran around the three of them, running for the shadow under the bridge. No. The girl is there. She was helped up by the other cop. Don’t hurt him! He’s mine. Bring him to me!
No! He screamed. She was in his way. How would he get under the bridge. The shadows were calling for him, but his feet knew he had to keep moving. You don’t know. I’m like her. I’m a runner. I’m like my mom. But he was too weak. They picked him up, and everything but his legs went limp. But his legs just kept kicking. They carried him towards her. Or she came towards him. No! You can’t catch me. I’m too fast. I’m a runner. I’ll catch her first. I’m so close. Mom, wait for me!
The girl came in close. She was short and thin like him, but she wasn’t as nimble as he thought she was. She was young for a woman, but her wrinkles gave her away. She reached to strangle him, but the cops wouldn’t let her. I just want to hold him! I just want to hold my baby!
I kicked her away though. I’m no baby. I wouldn’t let her strangle me. That was Dad’s way. No. Her hugs were fleeting like the wind. I was too weak to get away though.
But you don’t understand! You can’t catch me. I’m a runner like my mom.
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