Crawl

I could start out trying to explain the way I feel inside about working for a living, about being degraded and disrespected, about never having enough for someone else because I never had enough for myself, but that kind of thing stings like chlorinated water in my eyes so instead I’ll fall into a metaphor some silly idea like being in a swimming pool brightly lit and deeper than my feet can reach and there’s a million or a billion people in here with me but there’s room enough for everyone. When is the first moment I noticed that this pool contained a race? Was it the report of a shotgun making the grass tremble and the birds flee the trees? The tug of a fish trying to escape and knowing that he could reach cool and peaceful depths if only he had not bitten the worm first? I realize that everyone is competing and that I have been in competition all along. I size them up quickly and determine that I am swiftest, but my thought is stopped by reality just beyond the the gate. I eagerly press forward then feel sharp teeth gnaw upon my limbs. I frantically attempt to free myself but I cannot. What are these shackles upon me? Is this iron that delays me? No, it is not iron, no element alone made this chain upon my ankles, and I am suddenly sure that no one above water can see the device that holds me here. It pulls me down. Everyone else is racing but I know I am going to die, and still the people in the stands are cheering. I gasp for air. I cannot do this any longer. Surely someone will jump in to help me. They will swim to me and embrace me, breathing deep, kicking up, saving me from certain doom and letting my lungs fill once more. Before they drown they will look down and see the skulls beneath my feet.