Tuesday 0937 Eleven years later on a treadmill, his heart exploding and imploding as sweat percolated off his brow, his soundtrack plugging out the world, he thought how funny it was to be running for so long and still getting nowhere as he glanced at the flatscreen above and noticed the ticker crawling names instead of stories. He’d forgotten what today was. His breath caught in his chest as he watched his name lurch across the screen like a hearse through a halted intersection. He stopped the treadmill and collapsed in pieces, mourning all those who had died with him that morning.
Posted on: Thu, 11 Sep 2014 14:00:09 +0000
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