The Race

I run as fast as my legs will carry me. Somewhere in the distance behind me I can hear the rumbling. Is it getting closer? I don’t know. Frankly, I don’t care to find out. I just want to get out of this place. The maze stretches on, I run through it, ricocheting off walls and taking forks at random. Fortunately, this maze doesn’t have dead ends, so I can keep running forever, or at least until I can stay in front of the giant ball.
I look behind me and I can see it now, it’s at the other end of the tunnel I am in. I take off in to a tunnel to my right. My breathing is hard, but there is hardly any sweat.

I wish the walls of the maze were not so high then I could have jumped over some of them.

The rumbling is louder now, the ball is getting closer. I don’t think I can outrun it. I turn yet another corner.

I am in a huge play field now. The pavilions stretch off into eternity. I am standing in the middle of the field. I pivot around; the giant ball isn’t behind me. I wonder where it is.

I scan the pavilion for a way out, but there seems to be none. I wait for the giant ball to appear. The wait is killing me.

The referee begins to blow his whistle. I look around to see where the ball is going to make its entry from. The referee keeps blowing his whistle.

I reach out and turn the clock off. I hate that dream.


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