Faster, you say to yourself, faster. The same mantra that you’ve been repeating to yourself for the past couple of hours. Faster.
You push down the urge to glance back. To tell the truth, you are afraid to look back. But a single glance wouldn’t hurt, would it? you think. ‘No’, you say out loud, ‘Don’t look back. Keep running.’
You keep running through the golden brown grass, not ignorant of the frantic activities of the wildlife underneath your feet. You never notice the family of rabbits scampering before you to avoid being trampled. But you notice the thick cloud of flies rise above the grass as you pass by – their steady buzzing reaches your ear – and you see them settle back again on some animal’s carcass.
The flies, oh, the flies, you mutter as you pause for a moment as another similar scene, not so far in the past, flashes across your mind.
No. You push aside that thought. Faster. Keep running. Faster.
So you keep running, the setting sun warming your back; the long shadow before you mirroring your every move, pointing the way for you. The grass slowly becomes shorter and shorter. You see a copse and you feel hungry. When did I last eat? You ask yourself When? and you remember.
The sun shining. Brightly. Your shadow below you. The smoke. Yes, you recall the smoke. And the fire. And the smell. That horrible smell. And then you recall the curse. That condemnation.
Time to get up and start running eastwards of Eden…
