To The Finish Line

There was a dash to the finish line. Young and old, babies and teenagers, men and women, all sorts. Death seemed to be imminent. At the starting point, walkers, jogging shoes, wheelchairs, strollers, bikes, and cars carried their respective owners across the rainbow pathway. The bright colors bent and twisted, throwing off those who couldn’t hang on into the never ending deep black pit beneath the pathway. Some parts of the colorful bands were wide enough for entire families to tread on. But even on that there were sink holes. Mothers and fathers fell through while their children screamed in horror. Older couples tried to hold on to each other, but massive crows would fly over and pick up one and drop them into the pit. Some younger people thought the dash was their’s. But the rainbow pathway would flip and ripple, causing their soft ankles to buckle in and trip them up, consequently slipping over the side and into the pit. Dogs, cats, lizards, and all pets ran too. They welped or hissed out their respective cries for help from the humans. But it was every living thing for themselves. People stopped helping each other and dashed towards the finish line in a selfish panic. Only a few were left now. Some parents put down their babies and picked up their small dogs. The incoherent babies were swept into the pit. Parents also were letting go of the hands of their young children in order to run easier. The swift did not have the race. They would trip over their feet. Cars stopped running. Bike wheels flattened and creaked to a halt. Just as the last of the humans and animals seemed to be making it to the finish line of life, the gate closed and the rainbow pathway dimmed it lights. Any who survived were stuck in permanent darkness and those falling fell forever in an anxious plunge. The crows crowed overhead. The dash to the finish line was futile. This is not one of those stories where someone gets out happy. There is not happiness here. Not in the darkness.

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