Wednesday, July 12, 2006

Shaping Up

I can feel the longer blades pricking at my ankles as a run through the grass, top speed. In pursuit. I catch the first one and see the second hovering a few yards away, nearly behind me, just inside my peripherals. I dart towards it, snagging it mid air and falling to the ground. It’s soft and damp and I lay there a second, breathing heavily.

The sun is hidden somewhere in the sky but the heat pours mercilessly upon the park. A group of men play a game of soccer above me, a family of four fly a kite beneath. I watch the heavens, now one big cloud, shift slowly over us. I take a deep breath and rise. I throw the first disc and it soars upward, to the right, then hangs in the air for a soft landing. I spear the other out, about 6 feet from where the first one will land. He yanks the first one down then fumbles the other, letting it bounce from his palm before his fingers could clutch it. I see his head drop, shoulders slump. He falls to the field, beginning the first of 5 push-ups.

So close! I yell, then scan the rolling hills of Prospect Park. There is a makeshift baseball game going and a couple lying together, in one another’s arms, asleep on a blanket near by. A little league team is perched on one knee, thanking god I suppose, for supporting them during game they are about to play. A lone black man fly’s a kite shaped like a Dragonfly. Paul launches the first disc towards me. A magnificent floater sweeping to me from afar. A passing man stops to watch.

I gauge the direction of the second one before I yank the first one from the air. He lost control during release and it flutters to the left of me, still within my range of speed. Drops of sweat dance down my forehead to my neck and shoulders. The clouds part and sunbeams blaze my retinas. A mosquito buzzes past my earlobe. I’m racing forward, arm stretched out, wondering if the passing man still watches. I grip the edge of the disc mid stride, and then feel it crumble in my fingers like a dry clump of sand, falling to the ground as I collapse forward past it.

My chest heaves, I stare at the grass and the spots of soil under it. Paul screams at me, You almost had it! I cast an eye toward him, then see the passing man walking further behind him, beyond our game, away. I spill to the ground, placing my arms straight beneath me. I inhale deeply, then push up. I whisper to myself: One.

Everyone has a myspace page. It doesnt matter if you are dead or if youre alive. Its crazy, how connected we all are these days. Almost creepy when you think about it.


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:gray matters: by jkg is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License.
Based on a work at