so many people running on the tread mill.
the thin girl is running from the divorce thats yapping at her heels. its so close now that she can feels its hot breath on the back of her legs. she runs faster and harder, but it never seems to get tired or slow down. that dirty dog.
on the treadmill next to her, the fat lady, running from the doctors. they've jumped into an ambulance and they've got the sirens blaring. they're coming to take her away, to jab needles in her arms and take her blood pressure and pump her with pills. run lady. run. your life depends on it.
in the mirror i can see the gay hair dresser. trying to run like a boy. every now and then, his arms flap a bit, like he's just spotted his favourite rock star, and like he's going to faint, and like, its like, just too much. eeeeeeeeee.
then there's the 40 something woman running from her age.
the israeli body guard running behind the terrorists, running from the terrorists, running with anger, running from fear, running to save his girlfriend, and the rabbi and the wife.
the 40 something man. running to forget. forget the woman he loves. loved. forget that she married someone else. forget the times they made love together. forget. forget. forget.
and then me. i'm just running so i don't get fat :)