Flank

As he took each additional step that got him nowhere, he couldn’t help but look at his reflection in the window before him that was a mirror. He was not in prison. This was not one of those two way mirrors’ that was a mirror from one side, but a window from the other, even if at times it did feel that way.

No he was on a treadmill. Not the metaphorical treadmill of life, though at times his life may seem like a treadmill, but just your average everyday treadmill. As Flank stared into his reflection in this ordinary old window he had never hated treadmills more than at this moment. Flank always felt that treadmills were a waste of time. After all if you’re going to put all the effort into running somewhere you should at least have the satisfaction of getting there. It is doubtful that your average person would actually want to get up and go, say to the supermarket, only minus the supermarket part just the exercise along the way.

No Flank would never think this way as he is pretty much as average as average can be. You see there really is nothing interesting about him. As he takes each new step on the treadmill he can’t help but feel more and more disdain for the treadmill he is on. And yet he continues diligently along. Though his irritation grows with every step his discipline holds and he continues to use just such a machine without even the slightest inkling as to why. But then that is the story of his unextraordinary life. He constantly finds himself in this very predicament, plodding along in some sad circumstance that deep down he hates with the fury of a small mouse. You are probably thinking that short of a hulked out mouse of I Am Legend, a mouse has no great fury, and you are absolutely right. Flank could never really hate anything. No if he carried the capacity for such strong emotion, he might actually be able to take those sentiments and channel them into some sort of action, but instead he simply goes on through life with minor indifference and little to say about anything.

Clearly Flank is the last person to whom anyone would expect something so extraordinary to happen, and yet that is what makes this particular event so fascinating.










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