Running for a cause
She hadn't received an invitation but she decided to show up anyway. With all certainty the invitation was stuck in a corner of the maze that is the mail delivery system. It was a true miracle that things got to their destination at all. And, more importantly, she was not going to let an administrative error ruin her best client's 35th birthday party. She knocked.
"How are you?" she asked pretending to be interested.
"You already know how I am" the client answered.
"I brought you flowers. I know they make you sad because they remind you of the passing nature of this" she said pointing in all directions. "May I come in?". She was happy with her introductory statement.
"Oh, do I have a choice?"
"Good point". She entered his appartment. "Can I remove my shoes?" she asked while removing her shoes.
"You will have to put them on when the other guests show up".
"I don't think they will" she said. "Who did you invite?"
"A couple of friends".
"Nobody else will come!" She wiggled her free toes. "But don't put that face. Open your present. It's a book, The Myth of Sysiphus".
She handed him a wrapless, used, bent at the corners, thin book.
"You know I can't read. I haven't read in years. I can't muster the focus to read a whole book anymore".
"Don't worry" she said. "You only have to read the first sentence".
He obliged and read the first sentence. He stood in silence for one minute.
"My love" he said. "We are no more. I'm out".
"You know I won't let you do that" she said with the tone of one who explains an easy concept to a child.
"I fear the flames as much as the fall but I’m tired of standing on the ledge."
"What you are planning is going to fail in a miserable way". She laughed at her own remark. Her fingers were now clenched into claws.
"We'll see. I'm going for a run".
"Are you going for a run? On your birthday?" Her voice sounded as if seven people were speaking at the same time.
He could see the effects of his words on her face. Her eyes shifted to the sides of her head, her ears went up. She continued.
"It's cold. It's dark".
He put on his two year old brand new running shoes.
"It will rain. You will get sick. Do you enjoy being sick?"
Her lips disappeared revealing long and numerous teeth. He grabbed his keys and got out of the building. She insisted.
"Have you seen how you run? You run like an old man! Slow, pitiful, old man!"
Her skin turned pale green.
"What if the guests finally come?"
He started running as slow as she had predicted. She followed him, running on all fours, leaving a trail of white, putrid smoke.
"Only losers run alone!"
He picked up the pace.
"The pain in your abdomen could be appendicitis!"
She was losing ground. The client was ahead and getting farther away. She stopped, gasping for air, wounded. Her spine sprouted out of her back. Out of desperation, claws on her knees, she tried one last thing.
"You can always do it tomorrow!"
June 2018. Writing meetup at Imprfcto, Barcelona.