Week 10: Nature red in tooth and claw. The Law of the Jungle. Survival of the Fittest.

I'm running. I've been running for what seems hours, though I'm pretty sure it's only been about five minutes. The sound of children playing is drowned out by the high pitched screaming of the mob that's been chasing after me, its grade school but you'd think this had come out of something from Battle Royal.

I knew they were planning to pick on me again today, I could see it in the leer on their grubby little faces and the whispers they passed along behind their up raised hands. It wasn't a new thing really, I've been picked on before, but this time seemed different...it was like the entire boys section of the class was in on it this time. Turns out I was pretty much right.

So I kept running, my snow pants and rubber boots squeaking and rustle with each continually labored step. They were gaining on me fast and I had just hit the open stretch of playground...flat land that went on forever to my intended destination, the monkey bars. At least there I could climb up and kick at them till a teacher came over to pull my bacon out of the fire.

Not this time though. They caught me. They grabbed me. They surrounded me with leering faces and raised fists, propped for the inevitable playground trouncing I was about to get. But I have something they didn't expect, I saw their faces and did a bit of planning of my own. Just as the first punch was set to fly I swung my gloved hand up, the sunlight glinting off the points of four tacks I'd embedded in the knuckles of my glove. There was a pregnant pause before the leader of the group cried out and they all scattered like leaves in a strong breeze.

Arms race of the play ground I guess. Not that I'd intended to use the impromptu spiked gauntlet...the tape that held the push tacks in place wouldn't have held very long but they didn't know that.