As she sat on the couch watching her medical drama, he swept through like a whirlwind. She heard “… going for a run,” as he passed in a blur. His itchy feet were pounding down the road before she could even respond.
He felt the whip of the wind and heard conversations buzz as he moved along at increasing speed. Chasing dreams, his heart beat the bass while his pumping limbs thrashed out a furious rhythm.
He ran to escape her slothfulness, but in the end – when her measured doses of arsenic finally kicked in – he lay perfectly still.