Window Upon The World

Erik Masters

Sweat poured down his face. His heart pumped harder than he could ever remember, the only sound heard being the throbbing of blood in his temples. His breath was short, yet he gritted his teeth and focused, pushing on, always trying to reach his limit.

Even now, he ran faster, leaping man-made crevice after man-made crevice, mind focusing on one thing: to run. He could do nothing else, as one moment wavering away from his unsteady goal would be the one mistake that would trip him, let him loose his speed, to not have the strength to make the next jump.

The next jump, and the next…

They were always chasing him, but he could hide. At least, he used to be able to hide, but not anymore. He didn’t know what to do, so he ran, trying to get away, to rest for a moment, to think about his next move.

It was as if in chess: He had positioned his pieces, and had been about to strike.

But he had been caught off-guard, put suddenly on the defensive, and kept there until his pieces were eliminated.

Eliminated. Such a cruel and detached word. Such cruelty only few used; and he had seen it done.

So he ran.

But he could not run forever. Already his vision was reduced to a small speck of the world, closing rapidly, as blinding light surrounded it.

He fought back, and managed to push it away, making his window upon the world larger. But in his instant of relief, it struck, just as he was leaping…

The window upon the world was gone, and his body no longer listened to him. It was a dead weight, and as he fell from the dozens of stories high buildings, he felt no pain, no fear.

Only a relaxation, a relief, of no longer having to care about the world that had turned its back upon him.

His window upon the world closed forever.