Post by superme on May 20, 2007 13:47:46 GMT -5
As Eric ran through the park with his backpack on, he searched for a good place to stop. One that, ideally, didn't have too many people around. People tended to laugh at Eric when he ran during the cross country offseason, mostly because he did so wearing his trashbag attire. He wore a white t-shirt and grey shorts, of course, but neither of these articles were visible under the heavy black trashbags he wore. The sight of Eric begs a question, namely, why would anyone wear trashbags?
The answer was simple: Eric was trying to keep his weight down. His weight has ballooned to an unseemly 165 pounds, and while this is perfectly healthy for most boys his age, he needed to drop about a dozen pounds to be at his boxing weight. Not that he'd expected to find a boxing club around, of course, but it was something to do.
Actually, no, scratch that: it was the only thing to do. Eric peered down at his watch around his trashbags: he'd spent about an hour running. Perfect, just enough, he thought to himself, as he found a nearby tree to sit under. He derobed quickly... er... actually, he just took off the trashbags and left the rest of his clothes on. He realized how sweaty and nasty he was, so he looked around for other people while removing a change of clothes from his backpack.
Anyone around? he asked himself, wondering while he toweled himself off (after, of course, removing the towel from his backpack). After scanning for people and finding exactly zero, he took off his remaining clothing and, after about eight seconds, replaced them with a somewhat less sweaty/nasty black shirt and black shorts. He stowed the dirty clothing in his trashbag, and, with that done, took in the sights for the very first time.
He really did enjoy nature, with the trees, and the lakes, and the animals, and the fresh air, and the... well, he really just enjoyed not smelling liquor on his father's breath. The outside world was his escape from the inside, with his father at home and his books at school.
Ok, Self, he thought, what to do, now? Your options: draw a picture... juggle... run back home... no question, draw a picture, settled, great. After this stream of thought, he slowly took a pad and paper and looked for a subject. Seeing some sort of bird flying towards a tree, he smiled and started his sketch, taking in the sights, and the surroundings, wondering how he was going to explain the bags away to anyone who came. He took the mp3 player from his current pair of shorts, plugged himself in, and groped for a thought.
Several came: his stash for narcotics? Too risky, someone might take him seriously. Dead body? Even better, he pondered, how about... "what's in the bag, you ask? The last person who got too nosy, that's what. Again, just a tad too risky... maybe if he got to know the person beforehand... or if the person was attractive or personable enough to make him forget his rationale, which would be unfortunate. He decided upon putting these thoughts aside and listening to the music... fortunate, given the song playing.
What the people need
Is a way to make them smile
Ain't so hard to do if you know how...
And with that, he continued drawing mindlessly and staring off into the distance, thinking about a million other, different things.
The answer was simple: Eric was trying to keep his weight down. His weight has ballooned to an unseemly 165 pounds, and while this is perfectly healthy for most boys his age, he needed to drop about a dozen pounds to be at his boxing weight. Not that he'd expected to find a boxing club around, of course, but it was something to do.
Actually, no, scratch that: it was the only thing to do. Eric peered down at his watch around his trashbags: he'd spent about an hour running. Perfect, just enough, he thought to himself, as he found a nearby tree to sit under. He derobed quickly... er... actually, he just took off the trashbags and left the rest of his clothes on. He realized how sweaty and nasty he was, so he looked around for other people while removing a change of clothes from his backpack.
Anyone around? he asked himself, wondering while he toweled himself off (after, of course, removing the towel from his backpack). After scanning for people and finding exactly zero, he took off his remaining clothing and, after about eight seconds, replaced them with a somewhat less sweaty/nasty black shirt and black shorts. He stowed the dirty clothing in his trashbag, and, with that done, took in the sights for the very first time.
He really did enjoy nature, with the trees, and the lakes, and the animals, and the fresh air, and the... well, he really just enjoyed not smelling liquor on his father's breath. The outside world was his escape from the inside, with his father at home and his books at school.
Ok, Self, he thought, what to do, now? Your options: draw a picture... juggle... run back home... no question, draw a picture, settled, great. After this stream of thought, he slowly took a pad and paper and looked for a subject. Seeing some sort of bird flying towards a tree, he smiled and started his sketch, taking in the sights, and the surroundings, wondering how he was going to explain the bags away to anyone who came. He took the mp3 player from his current pair of shorts, plugged himself in, and groped for a thought.
Several came: his stash for narcotics? Too risky, someone might take him seriously. Dead body? Even better, he pondered, how about... "what's in the bag, you ask? The last person who got too nosy, that's what. Again, just a tad too risky... maybe if he got to know the person beforehand... or if the person was attractive or personable enough to make him forget his rationale, which would be unfortunate. He decided upon putting these thoughts aside and listening to the music... fortunate, given the song playing.
What the people need
Is a way to make them smile
Ain't so hard to do if you know how...
And with that, he continued drawing mindlessly and staring off into the distance, thinking about a million other, different things.