She runs in a pair of shorts and an old grey men's t-shirt, extra large. She likes the pocket, because she can stick her iPod in it. Not tonight though - tonight, it's raining. She wears a baseball cap to keep the rain from plunking into her eyes.
She runs between the raindrops, feeling the coolness on her skin from the drops that do manage to catch her. She smiles, thinking about how some days she is still strangely amused by the fact that she wants to run. Who is this girl?
Alone with her thoughts - the good, and the bad. No one to interupt her as she mulls over this relationship, or that one. The bills and the homework, and the schedules, all drifting through her mind. She frowns when she sees that the driveway still has an empty space.
She runs up the hill, to that mailbox that used to seem SO far away, the one that she chased again and again and again, always secretly wondering what the owners would think, if they saw her shuffle up to it and tap it purposefully, before turning around, squaring her shoulders, and running back down the hill.
She runs her victory lap, and it is awesome.
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6 comments:
That was very eloquent. Thanks for writing (and posting) that!
Hey! You! Stop touching my mailbox! Get out of my yard!
Alisa - thanks - I forgot to mention, sometimes if I am getting out of breath I pace myself by going through the latin hymns in my head... ccrazy but true...
Johnny - LOL - I don't live anywhere NEAR the canadian border... and I'm sure you're happy about that...
when I used to run, in another life (who was *that* girl?!) I would always hum the Chariots of Fire theme song when I got into the home stretch
Excellent work. Apparently your a closet beatnik.
word verification: shshi (obviously sushi and now I'm hungry thx)
That was really nice, so proud of you.
And by the way? TAP IT!!!!!
OOoo oo oo or slap it and then run like hell. That'd be hilarious.
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