#FridayFlash : Infinite Space

When I was a kid, one of my relatives in Minnesota sent me a tiny, hinged, vaguely walnut-looking box. Inside, there was a tiny carved ladybug with springy legs that wiggled when you opened the nut. The quote "I could be bounded in a nutshell, and count myself a king of infinite space" has always reminded me of the ladybug in the walnut. And *that* led to me to write "Infinite Space" for 52|250.

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Reverb 10 presents a difficult prompt:

December 3 – Moment.
Pick one moment during which you felt most alive this year. Describe it in vivid detail (texture, smells, voices, noises, colors).
(Author: Ali Edwards)

First, picking out "alive" moments is difficult when you're sort of dysphoric. My uneven keel slants toward the meh. Second, I'm total pants at describing moments. As we all are. The science-y side of my mind knows how much I edit and rewrite my own memories. I'm left thinking, "well, that was a pretty good moment...but there might be better" and "I remember very few actual details of any of that."

But fine, a moment in which I felt alive, written in excrusiating 1st-person present:

I'm running. I'm wearing my new black and pink running skirt, the white VOTS shirt from fall league, and my $16 blue, pink and gray shoes. I'm in the straight-away. I've kept pace behind this guy for the last little while, but he's slowing and I'm not. The day is bright and hot for February. Despite my hat, I have sweat in my eyes. I try not to think about the people lining the path because I am not fleet of foot and I always look like I'm lugging some sort of ghost weight when I run. And I've had better runs. I haven't been able to quite catch my breath the entire time. I am thirsty to my core. None of my music has seemed apt; Cake is only mildly doing the job. The only reason I run harder and faster now is because that is The Finish Line. As I cross it, I don't think to look up and see my time. All I see is the pavement, the tiles that will record information from the chip attached to my shoe, and my own feet. I'm heaving breath and pretty sure everyone I know has passed me.