My team creeps up to the mile marker
and you hear the faint beeps of watches
starting. We begin as a herd of.
So I run.
The group slowly dissolves into smaller
packs of runners. Each minority like a family.
I talk with my sisters joyfully about silly events
that have happened that day. So I run.
We come across our enemies.
We tell each other “good job” as we run by,
but inside our blood is curling and boiling with
secret hatred. My family longs to defeat them.
So I run.
As we get further along the talking dissolves,
and all you hear is our footsteps. It sounds
like light rain in April. You can hear the bugs
talking to you in their own curious language.
Everything is peaceful. So I run.
Our families eventually break up into even
smaller groups. There is only me and
my true sister left. Slowly we pick up our pace
and soon we are racing to the end. Sweat
pours down our faces as the sun beats down
on our exhausted bodies. So I run.
It is the last half mile. By now I have nothing left.
All I hear is the sweet music of my breath
and my footsteps on the scorching pavement.
There is no greater feeling than this in the world.
So I run.