Rune Archives Three (foreword) cross country short novel intro

[rejected 0]

This is the foreword/introduction to a short novel that I and a friend are writing about this years cross country and track season; tell me what you think of it please!The lyrical rhythm plays to conjure the euphoric momentum bestowed at one point in time, as with the apathetic excitement, as with the dogma. I stretch. Lips chapped and dried wrists; minimal water relieves both. Sitting I bend to the toes I can never reach that presently reside still and undaunted, clinging to bulbous calves for settlement before my rising. The body tilts, legs carry through like a rolling ball not in the sprint but the interim before the minuet air friction allows it to a steady anticlimactic rest. Yet I am not at rest, it seems; a constant click carries within the sodden matted hair follicles from every bound beside the angle of face utilizing the makeshift wind to tosses them about calmly against a wrinkled impervious forehead, above the eyes; there is no wind besides the vigor to invoke the parched arid heat and cool it with the ever present sweat letting the cycle to proceed itself until the soles are tried or the hydration is bare. How many miles have been run? To the dejected shoes time neglects minutes, as they are the training shoes not spikes; they infer age only in miles ran, and more importantly, yet to run. Its scuffled synthetic upper has outlasted torn traction that flaps about thumbing against the haughty concrete. The shoes never see the results, the prolific races or glory; they are the journey beside the destination; they are real. Yet they are here, as am I; past my motives and aspiration, border to the sidewalk carrying an ever present jog on the road. Mundane are the motions without incentive, to run, and run. Controlled miles overlap time as if it never existed like time was only meant for the stable pace to be had. To take the redundant steps, each with heartbreak passionate purpose, allocates the mind from wandering, since wandering derives the priority to wander. From hectic to bland, how simple it is to worry of breath or pace, to focus and wield but shorts, shorts, and (give or take) a t-shirt. After the run, I bend to touch my toes.The name of it is going to be The Rune Archives Three.. (Yes there were two of them before this )