Run, rest, repeat - Cheryl Markosky
Long-listed written pieces of 250 words or under submitted to the 2021 Urban Tree Festival writing competition on the theme of “trees close to you”
Run, rest, repeat
The jogger lies on a bench near the Kyoto Garden. Knees up, exhaustion stress-stamped on his face. He ignores the peacock pecking beneath him. He snubs buds forming shoots on trees along Lime Walk, replanted after the great storm of 1987.
It’s the third time this week I’ve seen the man on the bench etched to William Everett, 1923 – 1993, ‘who enjoyed strolling in this park’.
I wonder if William resembled this super-competitor, a bonus-banker in his 40s. City Boy displays his costly Garmin watch and Nike Air Zooms like the peacock fans his tailfeathers.
‘Nice morning.’ I nod politely.
He rolls his head towards me and fake-smiles.
‘It’s best first thing before the park gets crowded, don’t you think?’ I small-talk.
‘Guess so.’ City Boy hoists himself up.
‘I’m impressed by your stamina. I do the odd run, but you’re in a different league.’
City Boy leans on his hands. ‘So you’d think. My wife makes me run every day. But I’m worn-out. I run as far as the park and rest here before everything kicks off again.’
It’s unlikely William had a relentless companion, needy of the latest outdoor kitchen, espalier-ed terrace and electrifying existence .
Instead, his wife took his arm and ambled under the yew archway to the Japanese garden. Considered acer leaves turning red and orange. Paid attention to koi carp carving beneath the waterfall. Acknowledged the peacock resting in the Japanese cloud tree.
Yasunda. Rested.
And repeated the next day.
Cheryl Markosk, a journalist whose work can be found in EllipsisZine, Friday Flash Fiction, and the National Flash Fiction Day anthology in June. @cherylmarkosky www.cherylmarkosky.com
Read other poems and prose on the Longlist
