Feeding The Habit

"I will go in this Way, Oh but I will find my own way out." -Dave Matthews

Friday, November 05, 2004

One evening

Spencer was running and stumbling, full ahead, his heart racing.
"I'm givin 'er all she got Cappin!" His mind echoed. It was always full of tv quotes, always skipping frantically around, as if it were unstable.
"Free at last, free at last, Thank God I'm free at last," it now thought.
It was like Spencer had no control over what went into and out of it. It all just raced past him. But all that mattered was his tunneling under the outer fence had finally been a sucess! His back was scraped and would likely scar, but this was joy, he didn't care. If only he could get each leg to work properly and together he would be there in no time!
It was almost upon him!
And he heard the shouts from behind like alarms going off in his head, but he had to push on, he had to run.
It was almost there, almost there, he could smell it, had been smelling it for days, years even, and there was the ditch! Now the smell, the smell?
Where, Where, Where? There! There!

Spencer squatted and took a big shit on the spot.
The perfect spot.
The only spot that needed it.

It was everything he had hoped, just like he had dreamed.
He wanted to roll over in it, to be bathed, cleansed and free.
But there were the voices that had been behind him.
They were closer now, almost there, and still yelling and crying and calling.
"You feel lucky punk? Well do ya?" he heard.
He tried to change the channels.
He should give up, he knew, and give in, just let it go.
But there was the big green bin not twenty feet away, and another one twenty feet after that, and then more, all along the road, all just there and the smells, oh, the smells, he darted off, just missing the grasp of two hands, the two hands that wanted to carry him home, Oh, but he could already feel the urge lifting his leg!
He darted between pairs of legs, the green bin moments away!