AN: I own nothing.
This is going to be a story for me to get rid of all the desire to write poetic prose that's been bugging me lately so that my actual stories don't sound as if they could be stamped with flowers.
So I was flipping through my English book trying to get to the play Julius Caesar when I found the poetry section. I'm not a huge poetry fan, but I'll admit that some of the poems in there really stuck with me. As I was reading one, I found a line that totally struck me as something Sonic would say or think. Hence, this fic. Each chapter will be inspired by a poem, and I'll post the line that inspired me. Once I get through the ones out of my English book, I'll start asking for poetry suggestions. But not until then, please.
Each chapter might be a drabble or oneshot, may be a story or might just be thoughts or musings.
*shameless advertising* Also, I'm editing/writing a Sonic story with Jorbor, check it out under the pen name Midnight Guard please!
On with the story! (And no, all the AN's will not be this long.)
"I feel my fate in what I cannot fear.
I learn by going where I have to go."
~"The Waking" by Theodore Roethe
There were several stages to Sonic's run. There was the beginning, where he could feel the air acting as a barrier, the middle, where he cut through the wind and felt the roar of the air in his ears, and the final stage of pure speed, where the actual wind ceased to exist and he made his own.
He loved every part for a different reason. The first made him work, made him pump his legs and strain against his invisible enemy, his worthy opponent, air. It was almost as if he knew there was one challenger, one obstacle, that would always be there and somehow be beatable every time. Maybe one day he would find an enemy that he would never be able to beat. Maybe one day he would be defeated. But he knew that even if that day came, he could still run and still feel the resistance of the wind and feel its reluctant surrender. It was a part of him, and he would never give it up.
The second was exhilarating. It was when the air finally conceded defeat but still decided to show him that it was still there, always would be, and when he slowed down he find it there and ready to be fought and beat again.
The third was where he truly belonged. The strange quietness, the colors as he zoomed by, the blur the world took on was what he lived for. Time no longer had meaning. He wondered sometimes if he could run fast enough for a long enough time if he could escape time. It was a silly thought, he supposed, but when you outran the wind it made you wonder if time was outrun-able as well. Surely if anything could beat time it would be speed.
Sonic stopped, working his way backward from top speed to a full stop in about a minute. This found him on top of a large mountain, looking down into a valley untouched by anybody for hundreds of years, if at all. In a way, this was beating time too. Being able to look down into a valley filled with mist and unchanged by anything except nature surely was a time machine of its own.
Soon however he was working his way back through the stages of speed until he didn't know or care where he was going, and stopped going even where they wind took him.
The wind no longer controlled him. He was the wind.