ON THE RUN
“Run, quickly, there’s little time,” said The Badger.
“Who are you, where are we running to?”
“Not we, but you. Quick, you might be late.”
“For what?”
“There’s no time to say. Not here, but you should run. Look, you’re getting ahead of yourself and you’ve not even tied your laces.”
Ahead of him, a small rabbit ran.
Theodore hopped away, digging his claws deep into the sand and leaping long into every stride, chasing the every step of the animal before him, trying in vain to keep up. The tunnel was brightly lit, so bright it was blinding and he could only see the small animal he was chasing as a motion blur through the haze of kicking dust as both animals wound down and along the tunnel, hopping and skipping over stones and dodging and weaving around the sharp sticks and buzzing red lights that stuck out of the ceiling and Theodore could hear the sounds of laughter encasing him and it sounded like some great machine, machined by some great dictator were hot on his tail, pounding upon his every last step and he bound and he bound while the lights above and around, they spun and they turned and they cycled around and around and all he could see was a bright flashing blur of blinding bright whites and cautioning yellows and flashing reds and sirens and bellows and old men’s laughter and the sound of his own heart beating so fast that it might just skip out from his chest and what then if it did and he raced and he roared and above him, the sound of engines and rotors soared and about him, the sound of footsteps and screaming and shouting and sirens were sounding and he raced forwards, his sight grazed by the millions of thousands of billions of tiny dust particles kicked up by the animal leading him through the blinding light, away from whatever was scented to their flight.
“Live for today, gone tomorrow, that’s me, hahahahaha.”
“What? Who are you? What do you mean?” shouted Theodore, his voice breaking as his lungs fought to build enough air to shape the words.
The footsteps were all around him now. Marching feet. Late and delayed marching feet. Desperately moving, stampeding, marching feet; all about him, coming from great heights and slapping at the ground by his tail, scraping against the wall by his side and hammering down on the grey dusted ground that danced and moldered by his straining red eyes.
“Please, slow down. Wait for me” he shouted.
“Live for today, gone tomorrow, that’s me, hahahahaha.”
“Wait. I’m coming. Please wait for me. Please” he shouted.
“Live for today.”
“Don’t leave me behind” he shouted.
“Gone tomorrow.”
“Please,” he shouted.
“Hahahahahah.”
“Stop” he shouted.
“Live for today.”
“I can’t breathe” he shouted.
“Gone tomorrow, that’s me, hahahahaha.”
“I can’t breathe” he shouted.
The small animal didn’t stop, though, it just kept winding and dodging its way through and along the blinding white tunnel and Theodore had no shout at all left in his voice. He ran as fast as he could, but he couldn’t keep up.
“Stop” he yelled.
“Live for today, gone tomorrow, that’s me, hahahahaha.”
Theodore ran.
He closed his eyes to shut out the bright blinding white light, but it was no use. The light was not in his eyes, it was in his mind and the walls of the tunnel still turned like some mixing machine and he ran as if some magnificent amount of slurry were being toppled and turned and should he slow for second, it might catch up on him and swallow him whole and so he ran and he tried to ignore the channel of laughter and repeated taunting that echoed about him and he ran, trying to keep up with the small animal that was always just ahead of his crying voice and he ran.
He ran towards what he could not keep up with and he ran from, what he could not escape and then he heard the sounds of flights being called, numbers being read and then the sound of footsteps and marching that now paraded about his senses seemed all the more desperate and lated and they rushed about faster and with less restraint and less concern for whom they left behind and he felt as if they could crush him at any second, but his heart kept beating and his tiny lungs pulled enough air to keep his engines turning and he ran, he ran so fast, but not fast enough.
“Live for today.”
“Gone tomorrow.”
“Hahahahaha.”
“Shut up” screamed Theodore.
“Live for tomorrow.”
“Gone today.”
“Hahahahaha.”
“Breathe Theodore.”
“Yes breathe.”
“Breathe in the air.”
“Live for today.”
“Gone is the air.”
“That’s me.”
“Hahahahaha.”
“Wait for me, please. Please don’t leave me” yelled Theodore.
“Live for today, gone tomorrow, that’s me, hahahahaha.”
“Breathe, breathe in the air.”
“Forget the sun.”
“Hahahahaha.”
“Live for today.”
“Forget the sun.”
“Gone for today, hahahahaha, that’s me.”
“I’m not here tomorrow.”
“Live for the sun, breathe tomorrow.”
“That’s me, hahahahaha.”
“Forget the sun”
“Dig that hole.”
“Live for today, gone tomorrow, that’s me, hahahahaha.”
“Get the sun.”
“Wait for me please” yelled Theodore.
“Run rabbit, run.”
“Forget the sun”
“Live for today, gone tomorrow, that’s me, hahahahaha.”
“Please” yelled Theodore.
“Run rabbit, run.”
“Hahahahaha.”
“Stop” Theodore screamed.
He stopped.
His paws were cut and bleeding.
His will was spent; defeating.
He lay his little bunny head down on the grey sand and the lights they all turned about him but they slowed and they slowed and the sounds of marching feet; late and delayed and rushing marching feet, they all slowed too and his heart, it, pounding so hard in his chest but it too slowed and the blinding bright white lights, they shunned away and his eyes could see the small animal just ahead of his fleeting voice and he had no shout left, he had no yell, he had no scream and he had no whisper, he had barely a look in his eye.
And the animal was he and it looked at him and it was he, looking at himself and he had no idea what he had wanted, why he had wanted himself to run and he had never any idea, in the entirety of his life, what he had ever wanted of himself.
Theodore had not a word to say, not to himself anyway. He just stared as his eyes heavied and his breath slowed and his consciousness waned. The animal he was chasing, the one staring at him, the rabbit, himself, scratched at an itch behind his ear.
Theodore closed his eyes.
His breath stopped.
Darkness became everything.
The rabbit, the other he, prepared to speak.
Theodore listened.
“It’s time,” said he, unto himself.
Dark Side of the Moon Page 3