Alex ran. Alex’s feet compacted the earth smaller and compressed the crust towards the molten mantle. This wasn’t running. It was fleeing. The splotchy remnants of body parts littered the trees behind him.
The small fibrous muscles in his lower back that he hadn’t used since learning to rollerskate with his mum at age eleven were no in full use. The sinewy tendons inside his ankles snapped back and forth with rejunivated locomotion.
There was oil inside this man, and the tank was full. He was mustering each cell in his body and in every sense of the word exeunting.
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