rat

a scurry in a plastic pit of filth, lined with a gruesome ooze. a tainted chamber, dark and damp and out of sight, the only way forward in circles.
or, a scurry on an endless river of hot pebbles, scorched, strewn in a line adjacent to the unwavering sheet of blue. occasionally lapped or licked in little splashes.
what's the difference? its all a scurry.

and as the rock reached its apex the creature darted away, "20 quid to whoever hits him first!", but i just stare as he pelts another, and another, and another, and i almost expect it to hurl one back, but it scurries off into the crooked depths, away from the sharp piercing bursts of clatter.

i'd previously caught a glimpse of it jumping and clawing at the walls of its enclosure, scratching at the sickly sticky residue on all sides, propelling itself upwards, just enough to taste the stale air, but always falling short.

i almost felt pity as i kicked the opaque box every now and then, but it was replaced with a primal enjoyment, the only feedback in the form of a pitter-pattering scurry, scurry, scurrying in endless loops across the thin brown sludge, tracking tiny clawprints, a trail in the ooze, before coming to an inevitable stop.
silence.

and then again with the leaps, but this time it didn't even get the satisfaction of stale air. before the peak of its launch (a launch that would've nodoubt assured its freedom - in its mind at least), a dirty translucent pane (letting in just enough light for me to see the result of the attempt) caused a premature stop.