And I'll set it aside, just for the scent of another day.
Jim ran.
Muscular exertion. Perspiration flooding out in beads. The park and the cloudy, starless night as frames.
Jim had been running for half an hour, but he didn't pant. No, he was not going to give in to that mark of human fatigue. Sure, he was perspiring buckets. Sure, his muscles ached for respite. But this was his last stand.
Now, he was all controlled breathing and wandering mind.
Indeed, he was not going to let his mind get comfortable with the notion that he was tired.
For years in his life, he had let his mind get comfortable with too many undesirable things. He had allowed his mind to accept his solitude. When Diane left him, he allowed his emotions to settle within the soft, tender, broken recesses of his mind. From there, he felt that pathetic pang of dejection. He eventually let it fester. From there, he felt that daunting mass of loneliness bear upon his soul. He eventually let it fester. The result of all this was a man broken, ashamed, and believing that he was undeserving of another human being.
Jim took a bend that led him deeper into the heart of the park. His muscles screamed for oxygen, but he kept his breathing controlled. His chest felt like it was about to explode.
His mind tried wandering beyond Diane. Beyond his first heartbreak. And he couldn't. The heartbreak was when his heart came alive with anguish. It was when his life began.
His eye registered the centre of the park - the destination of this crazy impulsive run. The heart of the park was a quaint, deep brown oak gazebo designed by French carpenter Jacques Sabin in the early 20th century. The Frenchman carved upon its domed roof his own imagined story of genesis - how an evil deity created this world with fire and brimstone and filled it with humans. The first humans were destructive, fearful people - the little playthings of the evil deity. His nemesis, a goodly deity, depicted by Sabin by a glowing ouroboro, pitied these humans, and gave them hope by teaching them to build, to nurture - to love. And from there, the world became this stage for the crazy struggle for balance between destruction and growth.
And from that gazebo, sprawled this small park nestled in the outskirts of a sprawling industrial estate. And on a tarmac trail leading to the heart of the park, Jim ran, fighting the human impulse to pant. He didn't want to exhale that one heavy breath that would show his human limitations.
His destination was so near. 20 metres, that was the distance Jim had to cover without panting. Without giving in. He held his breath - it was the only way he wouldn't pant.
Two strides - 18 metres more. The strides were heavy, and took its toll on his calves, his lungs and his oxygen-starved brain.
He found himself executing 5 more strides - each one painful and bringing tears to his eyes. The tears trickled down his red cheeks. They parted beads of perspiration on his cheeks, but was eventually lost among them.
Antoher stride.
His legs landed shakily. He was making pitiful, suppressed wimpers through his clenched mouth.
Then, another stride.
Jim's head throbbed madly, as though an over-powered jackhammer was let loose in his brain.
And then, Jim fell, 10 metres from Sabin's gazebo. As he did so, he let out one heavy, horribly pent-up breath.
Pathetically, he wimpered. Then, pathetically, he cried into the black, black tarmac trail.
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