He had been repeatedly told that ‘always be moving forward’ was the key tenet of freerunning, yet he found it increasingly difficult to do so as both his ankles shattered, he crumpled awkwardly between two buildings, his screams of agony were unheeded, and darkness fell.
Tag: movement
The mother of pretension
As he resigned himself to his fate and stood there urinating and defecating into his trousers, the crowd of people around him who had so forcefully protested just moments before that they ‘couldn’t move further down the carriage’ suddenly discovered that they could, in fact, move a lot further down the carriage, and they did, at least until someone at the other end also loudly fouled herself, after which those caught in the crossturd just had to try not to breathe much and pretended harder than ever to be really interested in reading the Metro.
As one
Oh, it was perfect. The feeling from the pill she had taken half an hour ago had just reached the very top of her spine and a gorgeous sensation now exploded through her head just as a thick, pulsating bassline came in to fill the gaps between the beats. She had closed her eyes. Now she opened them again, and it was as though everyone around her had experienced the same rush of joy. Everyone she met eyes with looked back at the same moment and everything was pure approval. They seemed to move together. Everyone glistened with moisture. The floor seemed to vibrate, the bass, the beat and the bodies all moving in sync. Then, unbelievably, Jess appeared from behind to hand her a cold bottle of water too. Neither of them stopped moving to the music and their smiles to one another spoke of love. The cold water slid down her throat. The sensation seemed like a god-given consummation of her life. The whole situation was perfect. Well… it would be if someone hadn’t dropped their gut, anyway. Even that wouldn’t have been so bad if they hadn’t clearly eaten way too much salt. Actually… oh, God, it wasn’t just hot air they’d released. There was an actual log on the floor among the dancing feet. Then one of them trod straight on it and tumbled wildly to the floor. Oh, for fuck’s sake. Suddenly she awoke in her damp bedsit and, crestfallen, realised that it had all been a dream. All except the hot turd, anyway – and, alone as she was, she couldn’t even blame anyone else for that.