humanity
The Race
This prose was inspired by the chaos I would experience at work from time to time.
Catching my breath to run away and move on. To accomplish a day. I spot a flock of pigeons greeting me with a swift candor, then they fly away.
A ghastly whistle directs at me, with a series of orders. I pinch my skin, yes, indeed, I am human, not a machine. I am told that I am the best candidate for a race to satisfy a master. I dust it off and get ready. I run on to find a comet aster to survive. I am going crazy.
Along the way, a turtle slams itself against my knee. I trip; blood spurting out of my forehead. “Relax,” it reminds me. “I’m just a little fella. How could you trip and bleed?” Its face distorts into a sardonic realization, then it laughs and swears — laughs and swears — laughs and swears — “Oh my goodness, you poor, poor thing. I thought you were the strongest contender? What’s the matter?”
“I have to go through the walls and the tunnel, then roll around the endless lot,” I reply.
“Why, that’s easy peasy! That’s not a problem at all!”
“Are you kidding? That’s impossible.”
“What did the pigeons say?”
“How did you know about the pigeons?”
“Who doesn’t know about the pigeons? Everybody knows about the pigeons. Come on. Pay attention. So what did they say?”
“Nothing. They just gave me a nod, then they flew away.”
“It wasn’t just a nod. It was “the” nod.”
“The nod for what?”
“Be outspoken. Be honest. Stand your truth.”
“Oh. Is that what it meant?”
“I told you to pay attention. You’ve got friends around here, you know?”
“Okay, good. Thanks for the assurance. So now, what do I do?”
“You go back there and shut the ghastly whistle up,” the turtle says. “Tell the ghastly whistle to show it to you first, to achieve the impossible, how to win this race. Because, my darling, no one can. It’s the one and only race in the entire universe that can never be won. No matter how fast and strong you are.”
“Pay attention,” I ponder, cackling. “I got duped! Goddammit!”
“That’s right, you poor, poor thing,” the turtle laughs. “Now, would you know how to survive next time?”
I’m not sure, really. But then —
I catch my breath. I run away. And I move on.
Hoping to accomplish yet another day.
And meet a comet aster. Or perhaps another turtle.
Along the way.