Late Night Run

[greenblade1]

Wrote this as a class exercise.

The evening breeze offered a sharp contrast in temperature compared to the relatively hot and muggy days that had pervaded that particular summer. I basked in that deliciously cool breeze as my friend Ryan and I walked down the winding street towards a park at the end of the road, breathing deeply the crisp air. A loud beep cut through the air and as I looked down at my watch I realized that it was already 3 AM. We had stayed at the party a long time.
We reached the park and Ryan let out a contented sigh as he collapsed onto a bench facing one of the many large sandboxes.
"Nice night," I commented while watching Ryan pull a pack of cigarillos out of his pocket. He then withdrew a lighter from his other pocket, and proceeded to light one of the cigarillos and take a long drag before addressing my statement.
"Damn straight!" he exclaimed, a cloud of smoke accompanying each word. He leaned back on the bench, his neck seemingly made of rubber as it hung over the side of the wood.
"How much did you have to drink tonight, Ryan?" I asked with a smile, his half closed eyes, gaping mouth and contorted posture betraying his drunkenness to me.
"Shhhhh," he replied, the hand that was not holding the cigarillo now containing a beer of unknown origins that seemed eager to join its fellows in the stomach of my good friend Ryan, as he lifted the bottle to his lips, its contents spilling into his mouth. He let out a loud belch and, raising his full hands into the air screamed, "Wouldn't want to wake the neighborhood with your crazy questions!"
I opened my mouth to tell Ryan to lower his voice, but noticed red and blue lights coming from inside the park before I could form the words. Ryan seemed to have noticed as well, for suddenly his eyes opened wide with sobriety forged by his extraordinary fear of policemen. Suddenly Ryan was flying through the air like some sort of drunken sparrow, fervently and awkwardly trying to avoid a hawk. He ran with a speed born of terror, and I scrambled to get up and run, lest I be left behind.
I struggled to keep up as we exited the park and found ourselves in a field covered in grass that came up to our stomachs. Ryan was a silhouette in the distance as I stopped to catch my breath, feeling quite sure that we had left what we had to assume were policemen behind.
"Ryan it's fine! Hold up!" I yelled across the field, but the shadow that was Ryan kept running, and every few steps tumbling to the ground. When one such fall occurred, I heard the breaking of glass as his beer bottle fell out of his grasp and onto the ground. For a moment I worried that my friend had cut himself on a shard of glass, and so I scanned the area and waited for some sign that he was still relatively unharmed.
The silhouette did not emerge and the silence of the night was unbroken until I heard Ryan, gasping for breath, shout "You can't catch me now!" I shook my head, and chuckling to myself went to retrieve my drunken friend.