I’m gonna do the seven deadly sins this week because… no real reason. I just need prompts.
Today is sloth.
It oozed through the windows and settled on the sills. It coalesced in the corners and congealed in the cracks. It built up like bricks and shut out the daylight.
“Can I clean it for you?”
“No,” he said, thinking, “I’ll do it.”
But it crept off the sills and spindled to the floor like ivy and tangled in a nest of maybe-later that would not be undone.
The eagle surveyed the land from atop the tree branch. Below, a snake crawled through the dirt.
The snake flicked its tongue, tasting the air for the scent of prey. Nearby, a mouse scurried.
The mouse fled under a rock, quivering as the snake passed by. Overhead, the rock cast a concealing shadow.
The rock endured. It outlived the mouse and the snake and the eagle and the tree the eagle perched on. It weathered the rain and snow and heat. The rock endured.
Everyone is tired.
They trudge through the bog. The stink no longer offends their noses. The wet no longer makes them weep. The time of weeping and lamenting is past. Now, they trudge. They trudge.
Everyone is tired, but no one stops. The bog goes on forever. There are tales that claim there is an end, but they do not look for it. They do not believe. All they know is walking and muck and mire. All they know is that they trudge. They trudge.
They trudge. There may be an end, some day, but it is a day long distant. They trudge. Everyone is tired.
“Would you like fries with that?”
“No,” the man in red said, “but I would like to take you to space.”
Kathy tried not to sigh. Another crazy? He didn’t look like it, in his red jeans and band T-shirt. Just seemed like your standard hipster. Yet the man did not even blink at the mention of space, like he was talking about the weather.
“Well?” he said.
“No fries then?” Kathy said.
He leaned forward over the counter. “This opportunity has an expiration date.” He examined her nametag. “Kathy.”
“That’ll be $3.67,” she said.
The man frowned, pushed back and tossed money on the counter. “You humans,” he muttered, walking away with his Happy Meal.
I tied my shoes, adjusting the sneakers until they pressed snugly around my feet. I stood and hurried out the door. The sneakers hugged my feet. I put a slight bounce in my walk, testing my legs for aches or sleepiness. They were ready.
I set up a podcast, checked the distance I’d already logged on the day. My finger hovered over the stopwatch as I approached the turn in the sidewalk.
Then I hit it, the slightly darker square of concrete. To me, it looked green. Go!
I leaped into my first few strides. My legs quivered, eager to stretch out. Not yet. I started slow, let the blood rush through me as my heart rate increased. Once my breathing evened out I set my legs loose, letting them fall into a smooth, easy stride. It was more like floating than flying, floating on the strength of my legs, the powerful, reliable muscles in my thighs. I let them carry me along and fell into the strong embrace of my legs.
Perhaps this was the day I wouldn’t stop. Perhaps this was the day I’d run forever.
The girl with orange hair played pinball with the best. Headphones in, she pounded the flippers. Her orange hair flew as she dominated the pinball machine. “Say my name,” she grumbled at the machine.