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animal_quillsShort, rapidly inspired piece about the differences in bodily locomotion between a quadruped and a biped, also touches on senses and personal vision.
More poetic than explanatory, methinks, but take it as you please.
Comments, opinions, critiques, all welcome.
Naked.
Pounding. Thump-thump... thump-thump, unshod feet against the ground. Thump-thump... thump-thump, heels impact the dirt, foot rolls forward to push off the pad and toes, vault into the air after the other foot comes down.
A clothed body runs a naked race. Bare skin slides through the air, cloth flaps clumsily against sides and legs. Only two legs. Thump-thump... thump-thump.
The head drops forward and down, arms pump and sides burn as another step and another is begun, taken, finished, leaping in small bursts.
This is not running. Clunking along, the only connection two bare, callused feet on the ground. Arms flail and pump and wave, head surges forward and down trying to fly farther, back arches and legs press harder, flexing and unflexing to go faster, stomach contracts and releases to pull the torso in a confused rhythm, sweat dripping in a dusty mess from the body. Scent-blind, sound-blind, and nearly sight-blind with heat and glare. Thump-thump... thump-thump.
Eyes close for a moment, and the desert, river-bound forest vanishes. Thump-thump... thump-thump... turns to one beat as four feet hit the ground so fast their sound merges to one intense drumming. Pale-furred, pale fanged, slicing through the frozen air, breath blooming in frost coulds before nose and mouth. Eyes open, thump-thump... thump-thump returns.
Eyes squint shut again against salty, stinging drops of perspiration. Bright and dark forest looms again, and scent paints a picture of conifers and stunted scrub, small animal dens and little summer flowers. Eyes open and cleared, the heat and the desert return. Thump-thump... thump-thump.
Cars rumble as a bridge crosses the muddy river. Thud, both feet hittin gthe ground heel-first as the body comes to a jarring stop. Eyes close again as hands catch knees and the waist bends, resting.
Atop a small rise, looking over a gully in between trees. Little animals skurrying, bigger animals lowing and grunting and buggling, but no human animals. Ears twitch to catch the little sounds, flick this way and that, mapping the forest with sound. Nose twitches and inhales, adding scent to the picture. Rumbles through the ground, a herd of prey-beast traversing the earth, and the runner’s sensitive, padded feet knowing which is their land and which is not. Air is a solid thing, entering through the mouth, tasted and considered, only now unfreezing form the long northern night. Tail flicks and sways, bodily betrayal of inner joy.
Eyes open, and the desert and the dust and the sweat and the tired, two legs return. Eyes squint at the feet, bare and in places bleeding, but resting firmly on the ground, nakedly connecting with the earth. Naked and shameless.
A clothed body runs a naked race, in both nakedness and clothedness. The connection is the baring of flesh, bodily connection with the ground upon which the race is run. Touching, we know our land and our path. Running. Thump-thump... thump-thump. Thump.
More poetic than explanatory, methinks, but take it as you please.
Comments, opinions, critiques, all welcome.
Naked.
Pounding. Thump-thump... thump-thump, unshod feet against the ground. Thump-thump... thump-thump, heels impact the dirt, foot rolls forward to push off the pad and toes, vault into the air after the other foot comes down.
A clothed body runs a naked race. Bare skin slides through the air, cloth flaps clumsily against sides and legs. Only two legs. Thump-thump... thump-thump.
The head drops forward and down, arms pump and sides burn as another step and another is begun, taken, finished, leaping in small bursts.
This is not running. Clunking along, the only connection two bare, callused feet on the ground. Arms flail and pump and wave, head surges forward and down trying to fly farther, back arches and legs press harder, flexing and unflexing to go faster, stomach contracts and releases to pull the torso in a confused rhythm, sweat dripping in a dusty mess from the body. Scent-blind, sound-blind, and nearly sight-blind with heat and glare. Thump-thump... thump-thump.
Eyes close for a moment, and the desert, river-bound forest vanishes. Thump-thump... thump-thump... turns to one beat as four feet hit the ground so fast their sound merges to one intense drumming. Pale-furred, pale fanged, slicing through the frozen air, breath blooming in frost coulds before nose and mouth. Eyes open, thump-thump... thump-thump returns.
Eyes squint shut again against salty, stinging drops of perspiration. Bright and dark forest looms again, and scent paints a picture of conifers and stunted scrub, small animal dens and little summer flowers. Eyes open and cleared, the heat and the desert return. Thump-thump... thump-thump.
Cars rumble as a bridge crosses the muddy river. Thud, both feet hittin gthe ground heel-first as the body comes to a jarring stop. Eyes close again as hands catch knees and the waist bends, resting.
Atop a small rise, looking over a gully in between trees. Little animals skurrying, bigger animals lowing and grunting and buggling, but no human animals. Ears twitch to catch the little sounds, flick this way and that, mapping the forest with sound. Nose twitches and inhales, adding scent to the picture. Rumbles through the ground, a herd of prey-beast traversing the earth, and the runner’s sensitive, padded feet knowing which is their land and which is not. Air is a solid thing, entering through the mouth, tasted and considered, only now unfreezing form the long northern night. Tail flicks and sways, bodily betrayal of inner joy.
Eyes open, and the desert and the dust and the sweat and the tired, two legs return. Eyes squint at the feet, bare and in places bleeding, but resting firmly on the ground, nakedly connecting with the earth. Naked and shameless.
A clothed body runs a naked race, in both nakedness and clothedness. The connection is the baring of flesh, bodily connection with the ground upon which the race is run. Touching, we know our land and our path. Running. Thump-thump... thump-thump. Thump.
