THIS IS A YEAR OF THE HORSE CONTEST ENTRY
The Running Solution
This month we fix sexism and the Middle East; next month, Ebola. Amazing, the power of the pen. Run fast, my friends. 255 words
I'm not in any danger of her passing me, but she's sure keeping up, a
surprise in itself. She can tell I'm surprised too and feels good
about that. As a sprinter, I'm no Jamaican, but I can be a strong,
front-row charger. Then imagine my chagrin, her still there, almost
shoulder-to-shoulder. We run through loose sand and stop at the edge
of the water near The War Memorial.
"The Kurds are such determined fighters," she says, pants,
remonstrates, "we should just load them up with good weapons and let
'em go to town."
"How do you know they won't go to town on us? Or the Turks?"
"Because we'll give them air support and promise that if they clean up
the mess in Syria and Iraq, wipe the world clean of ISIL, we'll see
that they get generous portions of Iraq, Syria, and Turkey right up in
that triangle where they meet."
"Oh yeah, Afghanistan too, of course. Four Corners."
"Can we just do that?"
"Why not? They'll earn it."
"Won't the Turks want to stop it?"
"Fuck the Turks."
"How about Israel? Iran? Egypt?"
"How about fuck them too?"
"How about I beat you to The Shell?"
"No, The Zoo."
"OK, The Zoo. Ready? On your mark."
But by then she's already running, way before "Go!"
"You cheat!" I yell at her back.
"Please try to keep up!" she laughs over her shoulder, the bright
soles of her ASICS winking alternately as she faces forward and picks