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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/books/entry_id/976991-The-Dodo
Rated: E · Book · Comedy · #2214457
Here I go down a rabbit hole. What will I encounter? What will I write? Viva l'imagination
#976991 added March 26, 2020 at 6:32pm
Restrictions: None
"The Dodo"
         PROMPT: A caucus race has been suggested where everyone has to run in circles with no clear winner. Create a blog where you are in such a race with 10 other participants. Who are these fine folks? Why put them in this meaningless race?
         Oh, this will be so much fun! I am waving my arms in glee. There's always a sense of urgency to a foot race. I can see the red and yellow banners fluttering in a balmy breeze. The sky is a brilliant blue. The sun blazes in glory. The starting line glistens white. The starter raises his arm in the air and blasts an obnoxious airhorn. And they're off! The contestants are tasked with balancing an egg on a teaspoon as they strive to hurry around the track.
         Contestant #1: The philosopher studies his surroundings and his fellow racers. His mind shudders with questions. Why are we here? Why am I here? Does this day, this track, this race and these people exist? What does this race represent? Is this a classic struggle to belong?
         Contestant #2:The sprinter jumps up and down slapping his arms. He is prepared. His muscles are warm. He grips his spoon with steely determination. As his sports therapist taught him, he envisions the finish line. He hears the cheers. Be one with the egg and the spoon.
         Contestant #3:The mathematician strokes his silver beard and measures the track with his discerning eyes. Complex equations dance in his head. Acceleration equals change in velocity divided by change in time. This calculates the rate of change in velocity over time. The numbers never lie.
         Contestant #4: A six-year old child bounces and twirls at the starting line. As he takes off with his egg trembling on a shiny spoon, he stumbles. After he reties his laces, he breaks into a run. When his egg hits the dirt, he stops to retrieve it, but something intriguing catches his eye. Ants are milling about in the gravel and he feels compelled to rub his feet across their slow path. Then he gazes up at the sun, squinting. Time has stood still.
         Contestant #5:The politician straightens his red tie and runs his fingers through his hair; appearances matter. He makes a point of smiling and nodding at each of his constituents fellow athletes. Although he didn't recall there ever being a referendum or a committee being called, he's certain this race has a purpose. Had he voted for this situation? He made a mental note to have his assistant check into this.
         Contestant #6: The race car driver tugged off his gloves and tested the air. Good, there was a strong tail wind. He could use that when he drafted off the other runners. He planned to stick to the upper portion of the track until he entered the corners. He wouldn't bump anyone unless it became necessary.
          Contestant #7:The safety co-ordinator consulted his clipboard. Who had organized this fiasco? Where were everyone's safety vests and goggles? Were all the shoes non-slip and properly, securely fastened? Was this gravel tested for human usage? Did a team of EMS responders wait nearby? Would water breaks be scheduled?
         Contestant #8: The minister gazed solemnly at the sinners, the unsaved in his midst. With a show of reverence, he opened his well-worn bible to a favourite passage. He intoned a sonorous prayer for the endurance and the success of the competitors. He asked God to bless their legs and if it was his will would he cheer for their victory.
         Contestant #9:The mother of the six-year old sighed and swiped at her eyes. This was one more test of her sanity and her insatiable appetite for stress. Why could she never just say no? Laundry was piling up at home and someone had to pick up the other kids from school. She hollered at her son to get his finger out of his nose. A mother's work was never done.
         Contestant #10:The lone teenager shuffled his feet and checked for messages on his cell phone. He stifled a yawn. He avoided eye contact. He wondered if there'd be food after the race.
         I am the lucky eleventh contestant and I organized this momentous race simply because I could. I wished to witness a diverse crew of runners. Oh who am I kidding? I needed a good laugh!

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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/books/entry_id/976991-The-Dodo