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61 - They were running from something.

joneworlds@mailbox.org


I had finished my jobs for the day, and I was sitting on the bench behind the rusty backstop fence at this old baseball field on the outskirts of town. And I'm eating a spaghetti and peanut butter sandwich with mustard and cucumbers, which is a really under-rated combo in my opinion. I'm lost in thought, but then all of a sudden I notice that the field is filled with animals. I see squirrels, rats, cats, a few coyotes, some stray dogs, several racoons, even a couple of deer. All spread out across the width of the field, and all running fast. And in the sky above I see birds big and small, tits and hawks and everything in between. And it's odd to see all these creatures together in one spot like that, but what's weirder is that they are all moving in the same direction, heading west. Very determined, very one-directional, like they were being chased, but I can't see at all by what. Pretty soon they're all passed, disappeared into the tree-line at the end of the field, and it's quiet and still again. And that's a pretty eerie thing to see on an early Friday afternoon. More and more, I just get this feeling that something is wrong around here. Animals know stuff.


When I was just a kid, there used to be a bunch of folks in a running club who'd all go running together every weekend down the road past my house. You know, for exercise. And I know it's just me, but seeing a bunch of people running together has always given me a funny feeling. It's like some corner of my brain is like, "What are they all running from?" and it's looking behind them for the lion or the maniac or the zombie or whatever they're running from. And so maybe what I saw here in the field, was just an animals' running club? But I really doubt it.


For a moment there after it was all over, I thought I saw a tall figure in a dark cloak on the other side of the field who was watching it go by too. But it was just a small tree, and my eyes were playing tricks on me. Pretty sure about that.


Next - 62 - No more fish.

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