Something knocked me out' the trees
Now I'm on my knees
--Peter Gabriel, Shock the Monkey
The city darted around him.
Taxis and scissoring legs.
People crisscrossed, faces repeating. A few eyes caught his. Most did not.
The city darted.
Taxis and scissoring legs.
Motion and motion and motion.
Someone bumped his shoulder. He had tried to get out of the way. The other did not.
A horn blared. It hurt his ears.
A bus cut into traffic.
The light at a gridlocked intersection changed to green.
His phone rang. He checked the number. He ran his hand hard through his hair.
The phone still rang.
He threw it, spinning upwards and shattering on the concrete of a parking garage.
A few eyes caught his.
Most did not.
Taxis raced and legs scissored. He struggled to breathe. People passed with repeating faces.
Motion and motion and motion.
And he would only add to it if he ran.
3 comments:
Love the line "Taxis and scissoring legs."
Some of us do shy away from the hustle and bustle of the urban jungle. Reminds me of my brother, the IBM exec. threading his ay through the crowd juggling his $10 laite and Wall Street Journal. I enjoy my rural setting because I am a farmer at heart. I love the process of creation and growth in the country air. "Life is a Garden, Dig It" (from a Mad Magazine cover playing on the hippie culture)
Lee, I can see it.
Jackie, I move between extremes. I don't think I'd want to give up either.
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