Awe Struck

Two ways that one can be awe struck.

Awe Struck

Believing his eyes were not looking upon a mirage, he ran. He ran at full tilt, but not away from something horrible like a bad dream.

Instead, he ran in the direction of a woman he had seen many times in his favorite park. And this time he would not let her slip away without approaching her. He would not be shy. He would introduce himself and bestow the finest compliment he could ever give a woman. He even felt that his sincerity would show, that she could not deny his honest admiration and more for her.

The distance between them was approximately thirty-three feet, when he first laid eyes on her that day. It was a span he could cover in a flash, thanks to his superb running ability and athleticism.

So, he dashed, darted, danced, and dove in pursuit of her. He went over and around obstacle after obstacle. And he felt sure that he would reach her before she departed the park.

His leaps and bounds over benches, burrows, and bushes were magnificent. Sidestepping around park patrons, couples, and roaming pets was just another matter he performed admirably as he reached the last obstructions in his path.

All that remained was an imposing oak and grating that separated the grassy area from the paved path. He was so exhilarated and confident, knowing he could make it past the tree and easily soar over the three-foot railing. That last hurdle would not keep him away from her as his shyness did, during the last three months.

He measured the distance from the grate and timed the precise moment when he would take flight. And his success would have been assured had he not missed the dangerous item in his path. He did not see it until he stepped on it: a darn banana peel.

Well, in a way, he soared, but he did that on the seat of his pants--a soaring slide actually. And he eventually slid into the oak, just three feet away from the grating, with a thunderous bang.

Anyone else would have been knocked out for the count. That would not be so for him on this day, though.

Instead, he woke up instantly after the bang and took in his surroundings with utter dejection, seeing only the semblance of oak in front of him. It was an oak that he was quite familiar with, having had it for many years.

To his chagrin, he had banged his head against the oak post of his bed and realized he was only dreaming. And his hurting head was nothing comparable to knowing it was all but a dream.

Nevertheless, he took a pair of pate pills, closed his eyes, and reclined his head on his pillow. All of those in the hope he could get a rerun of his dream, while avoiding the darn banana peel and crash with the oak.

By Alcides (The Fly-on-the-wall writer)