4/22/1989 ~ 5:13:25PM __.@
After reading this great new comic, called
Dilbert, I started watching the marithon that my very own brother
was in. He had already passed by so I had lost interest in watching for
a few minutes and read some news and the new comic, of course.
As I looked up I noticed a frantic little
squirel running between the feet of the runners. A few runners noticed
the little guy and tried skipping a step treading upon him. This just
caused a messy pile up of skin and bones on the wet road. I forgot to
mention it was kind of misty today. The squirel was nearly caught under
this pile up. In the chaos, the squirel bit someone. I saw it. Most of
the runners did not see what had actually caused it all so got up and
continued running. Usually if someone is really hurt there are people on
hand that take care of them.
The man who was bitten also got up and continued
running. He knew he was bit, I saw him look down at his shin, where the
bite was. I was not going to say anything, it was his choice to continue
running. The end of the race might be rough for him though.
About an hour later almost everyone was waiting
at the finish line. There were only two people I had my eye out for, my
brother and the guy with the squirel bite.
I saw my brother. He was sweating and looked
exhausted, as did the rest of the runners. About twenty feet behind my
brother I noticed the man with the bite. He was wide eyed and kept
looking at the people around him. He seemed to be a little paranoid. I
watched him as closely as possible as his head bounced up and down out
of sight into the rest of the runners and back up into view. As he got closer the outline of
foam around his mouth and a wrinkled expression around his bloodshot
eyes became more clear. Then he noticed an uncomfortable look from a fellow runner and
lunged at him.