Run like hell.

About 5 AM when mom barges into my room. I'm busy working on the Schindler's List theme on my acoustic. The look on her face tells me what's in store. No. I didn't sleep last night. Yes. I did drink my cold coffee. Okay. I'll deposit the electricity bill today. Yes, definitely. I'd love to have a glass of Tang.

"You'll ruin your body clock this way." I'm tying the laces of my sneakers. "How will you be able to work through your job with such a schedule?" I'm gulping the Tang in one sip. "Don't you think you need to get your life in order?" I'm closing the gate of my house behind me.

Hardly have I started jogging when I encounter this neighbour.

I wish him.

"Hello Beta! How are you? When is your job starting?"

Next month, I tell him.

"That's nice. But you need to tighten up. Look at you! You look like an underworld don in this beard and dishevelled hair. You need to polish yourself up before you start working!"

I muster a frustrated grin and resume jogging. I turn into a lane that takes me away from my home. And I start running. I run. I run like hell.

I could have offered him a million answers, all false. The truth is that I'm a bad person, but that's going to change, I'm going to change. This is the last of this sort of thing. I'm cleaning up and I'm moving on, going straight and choosing life. I'm looking forward to it already. I'm going to be just like you: the job. The family. The fucking big television. The washing machine. The car. The compact disc and electrical tin opener. Good health. Low cholesterol. Dental insurance. Mortgage. Starter home. Leisurewear. Luggage. Three-piece suite. DIY. Game shows. Junk food. Children. Walks in the park. Nine to five. Good at golf. Washing the car. Choice of sweaters. Family Christmas. Indexed pension. Tax exemption. Clearing the gutters. Getting by. Looking ahead. To the day you die.

I stop. I pant. I bend and rest my sweaty palms on my knees. Drops of sweat form on my forehead and drop on the gravel. I pant. I rub the sweat off my forehead with the sleeve of my Tee. I pant. I start running again.

Run. Rabbit, run!