in a race, seven minnows pushed hard against a stampede of laces and sweat, opting for an easier route over the vertical hell of hayes street. papier mache helmets with sharpie-drawn scales and glossy eyes, team opposite, kegs in a shopping cart, joined together in pursuit of a deliberate and glorious loss.
what is winning, then, if the object is to outwit unoriginal opponents following bright orange markers in a frantic flurry to finish? why not refuse to win and instead, return to the starting line, taking an intentional detour, feeling no urgency other than a hasty escape from a more predictable end?
I really like this post! It puts an immediate, colorful image in my mind. Your writing is so cool! Keep posting!:)
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