Thursday, May 10, 2007

I Ran

Turn on Fox News. What do you see? Is there a bus on fire? Is it on the Golden Gate? Is it a helicopter shot? I remember there being a helicopter but I only had time enough to listen.

I just took one picture, for time and money, and then dropped everything to help the people trapped in cars, in mangled metal. The people on the bus were beyond saving.

In the distance between my bag and the flames, my life wasn’t measured in time. The normal amount of seconds it takes to run twenty or thirty feet, as fast as I ran, is not enough time to imagine grace under pressure, or to fantasise about saving a trapped baby, as I imagined. That distance should only be measured in steps, a concrete number. Sixteen giant strides.

When the flames hit me, a slap of heat, and the fumes from burning rubber blew my nose out, I just stopped and dropped to my knees like…

I woke up maybe twenty steps later to a human torch pirouetting above me because she couldn’t see where she was walking. I woke up to the blast of broken glass propelled across my nose into the river.

Any sacrifice made for the benefit of others would not have been heroic. The two options I had both ended with me retaining my humanity measured in guilt.

26 comments:

  1. Hmm

    Yesterday, a woman fainted at the desk across from me, and I didn't notice in time to catch her.

    A notoriously slow colleague did - bolting around the table to catch her just before she fell.

    The slow colleague is now a heroine, and rightly so, whereas I attained 5 minutes more productivity than her because I kept working whilst others comforted the fainting lady.

    I am still wondering what this means.

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  2. You may not be a hero, but you're still human, no?

    Maybe you should just tell the woman who fainted to stay off the junk. That shit will kill her.

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  3. Sounds like some quality toilet activity

    Don't exert too much effort or you might faint on the toilet seat

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  4. When in shit are you going to post something Mikers?
    You and Kelly need to introduce yo-selves, fo' sho'.

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  5. I'll post somethin across yr jaw in a minute boy!

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  6. Yeah? Yeah! Yeah~
    You and whose guns, motherfucker? 'Cause all I see are brittle twigs attached to those shoulders.

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  7. The guns feel sorry for you

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  8. Those guns need protein injections, mate.
    That calliber you're carrying would bounce off my hide.

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  9. Haha.....i suspect most would!

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  10. Okay, let us take this outside and end it with a fair fight.
    I'll break both my arms to make it even.

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  11. Just cause you punch corpses when noone's around doesn't mean you know how to fight!

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  12. I can kick like an ostrich and spit like a camel.

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  13. With a name like ribbons i bet you fight like a bitch

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  14. How do fumes blow as person's nose "out"?

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  15. I was talking about a person's sense of smell.

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  16. The blast of broken glass propelled across your nose?

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  17. Like across ones face, but since the nose sticks out, it was in the most danger. I focused on that.
    Alright, Spainish Inquisition?

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  18. It's no problem for me to kill you

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  19. Didn't expect that. Not at all.

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  20. Mortal gaylock begins. The combatants cannot be separated until one is dead or they have consumated the relationship.

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