Running for Her Life

Running for Her Life
By fastbreak333

  One doesn't really expect anything unusual at the park. In fact, a lot of folks in this city agree that it's the most peaceful place they could find to escape from rushing deadlines or traffic jams. Sure, one can't escape from the city ambiance and the tall skyscrapers can sometimes obstruct a citizen's view of the cloudy sky. However, the citizens try their best to clear their head of city life and appreciate nature indefinitely. As for today, it was as ordinary as the other days, except for one little thing: a pair of legs sprinting across park grounds.

  Sticking out like a cat in a dog show was pair of female legs, running wildly in green jeans and pink nail polish.A few witnesses claimed they managed to glimpse the top of her to find a stump of skin barely peeking out of her jeans. Of course, that was as close as they got. Not even the officers patrolling the park want to grab the legs; their mouths are simply wide open enough for flies to breed in. Although, some curious onlookers had taken pictures of it and sent it to their pals. Sadly, most think of it as a Photoshop trick. It's rumored that a few did make it their desktop wallpaper.

  It was obvious that the legs couldn't see since it ran in one direction instead of running along the stone path. Moreover, when it finally left the park grounds, she didn't take note of where the crossing is. Two cars stop centimeters away from her, but the other cars don't react in time as they collide. The four drivers of the car hastily kick down their doors and get out to argue indefinitely for insurance papers.

  "Hey, I signaled!"
  "Haven't you heard of the Two-Mississippi rule, mac?"
  "Who'll believe a pair of legs caused this?"
  "ID! I want some ID!"

  The legs continued her run. To where she was going, nobody knows. As she runs, she bumps into tons of pedestrians, minding their business while holding their shopping bags or replying a text message. Lots of civilians were pushed aside. Most were looking around, aware that they saw nobody in front of them. A couple even dropped their drinks, spilling all over their clothes and the legs. One of those drinks was sadly coffee and it was scalding hot. So hot in fact, that it made her veer right into a parking meter. Some eyewitnesses look away when seeing the collision. Despite her bending over a couple of times, she continued running away as if nothing ever happened.

  She instinctively turns around into a subway station, clumsily running down the stairs. She bumps into one guy who promptly falls right on his back in pain while beginning to ascend to the city. It was funny, but not in his perspective. She runs right under the gate with little trouble as she boards the train and hits the other side just as the doors close. Upon sight, some passengers run out in panic. The legs continue to run around the room bumping into the walls like crazy. The passengers that stayed either do their best to ignore it, snap pictures, or cop a feel. (Unfortunately, one person that tries to get a feel for the leg's ass is promptly kicked in the balls. The passengers chortle at the sight.)

  As soon as the subway train arrives at a new station, she is pushed into the crowd and out of the train. After regaining her balance, she continues her run only to step into a bucket of blue paint that somebody is using to mask graffiti. Her right foot leaves a vibrant trail of footprints as she runs up the stairs, trips, then resumes, then trips again, and finally gets back up again to surface into another part of the city.

  Suddenly, she steps right on a skateboard that was set aside by a teenager. The skater shouts burglary as she focuses on trying not to fall. She swerves along the sidewalk, miraculously missing many pedestrians. However, she hasn't seen the recycle bin that is at the porch stairs. She trips and falls right into the bin, struggling to get out with her legs kicking and her toes flexing. The boy grabs the skateboard and walks away.

  "Jerk!" Screams the teenager, unaware that she can't hear.

  Abruptly, a blonde in a red long-sleeved shirt and black jeans runs to the legs and pulls her out of the recycle bin. The legs are still kicking in the air as the stranger hoists the legs over his left shoulder and walks away, acting as nonchalant as possible. (Hard to do when female feet kick your back until they tire.)

  "Finally," says the stranger, "If it wasn't for those footprints, I would've never have found you. Let's get home before she gets any more angry. And would you stop kicking already!?"

----

  The scene changes to a small apartment. The whole room is as silent as a church and most of the blinds are down. There is a bit of a mess in the apartment as instruction papers, a couple of food wrappers, blue flip-flops, and the shattered remains of a vase lay on the floor. What is more peculiar was a woman in her twenties quietly snoozing on the couch. Her legs and hips are not anywhere in the premises. In fact, the bottom of her light green t-shirt shows a flat stump to where her hips are supposed be. It is the same as the stump of the legs.

  There is also a sword laying on the side of the TV. It is a scimitar: the curved silver blade and the black handle are pretty common for most scimitars. There is also a shiny blue gem embedded in the handle. A piece of the instructions reveals that this sword has the ability to slice anything without fatality, including people. The instructions show how to use the sword, how to care for it and what to do in emergency scenarios.

  The door is kicked down all of a sudden, revealing the male blonde that's carrying motionless legs. It seems that the legs finally got too tired to kick anymore. The girl sleeping on the couch woke up with a snort. She looks at the stranger and crosses her arms with an angry look on her face.

  "It's about time!" She says, "I told you to read the instructions before using that sword and look what happened!"
  "I'm sorry Dana," says the man, "But I went through 25 blocks or more to find them, so here they are."
  The male sets the legs down on the couch. The legs were still motionless.
  "Well, okay. I forgive you Kevin...mostly," says Dana, "But only because you look like you went through hell retrieving my legs."

  Kevin is covered in sweat, which stained his red shirt. The other stain of his shirt is the back where blue paint marks were on his left shoulder blade. His right pant leg has a rip on the bottom. He is certainly tired and worn.

  Kevin sat down in the middle of the couch between Dana's two halves. It looks very weird with Kevin sitting in the middle. He takes a breather and closes his eyes for a few seconds; exhaustion is an understatement for Kevin.

  "Did you figure out what caused your legs to run away?"
  "I think I just forgot about them for a moment and before you know it, I lost feeling. It just felt so nice having so much weight lift away from me." She blushes a bit, hoping not to strike the wrong tone.
  "I understand. Now we just need to read the instructions on putting you back as one. Are yo..."

  Suddenly, Kevin feels his cheek stroked. He looks to see that it's Dan's right foot doing the touching. It looks as if that the legs are trying to hit on Kevin as her sole slowly moves away from Kevin's face. Her right leg is pointing upward as her foot wiggles her toes a bit, as if saying hello.

  "Uh, I think she's..."
  "No," interrupted Dana, "That was me."
  Dana's upper half then scoots closer and wraps her arms around Kevin's neck. They both smile deviously, both knowing where this is going.

  "I have something to admit," she explains, "While you were gone, I was pretty turned on as soon as I started to rub my stump. I think we should resume what we were doing, don't you think?"

  Kevin nods slowly. Dana's feet set themselves down on Kevin's lap, acting very nonchalant. Judging from the couple's faces, purchasing that sword was the best decision they ever made together. Despite that slight mishap that made a ruckus in the city, the couple move on to more private matters.