Always running
I’m trying something a bit different today – fiction. I had an idea for a short story the other evening, and I fleshed it out into a proper piece. I want to get better at writing fiction, and the only way to do that is with practice. I hope you like what I’ve written!
When the fire starts, I am already running for the exit.
I have always been running for the exit.
One foot lifted, one arm outstretched.
Frozen mid-stride, but never still.
I run because that is what I am made to do.
I run because somebody must show the way.
When the fire starts, the world is thrown into sharp relief.
Everything unnecessary falls away.
The noise, the panic, the heat – nothing touches me.
I know my purpose.
I know what I have to do.
I have worked in this theatre since it opened its doors.
But I am not an actor or an usher or a stagehand.
I will never receive applause or accolades or awards.
My job is still important.
My job is to keep people safe.
When the fire starts, my work begins – and in a way, it also ends.
Not because I leave, but because they do.
For years they have walked past me, hardly noticed me, barely seen me.
But today, they look up.
Today, they follow.
Today, I can do my job.
When the fire starts, they run beneath me.
Rushing through the doors.
Rushing towards safety and freedom.
I do not know how the fire started, or where it is burning, or how it will end.
I only know that inside is danger, outside is safety, and I am the line between them.
When the fire starts, they leave their bags behind. Their coats. Their tickets.
Some forget their composure. Some forget their manners.
But nobody forgets me.
They hear me, though I have no voice.
They know me, though I have no face.
They trust me, though I have no name.
“This way”, I cry, without words.
And they follow.
When the fire starts, I know I will never leave.
People carry each other – their friends, their colleagues, the stranger sat next to them.
But nobody carries me.
Nobody takes down the sign above the door.
But I do not need to be carried.
I do not need to be saved.
When the fire starts, I will keep running.
Running above their heads.
Running across the doorway.
Running in every darkened hall.
I will always be running for the exit, because somebody must.
I will always be running for the exit, even if I know I can never reach it.
I will always be running for the exit, because that is how I show you the way.
Hopefully it’s clear that this isn’t a story about a person, but about the “running man” who appears on emergency exit signs around the world. It’s an icon that was first devised by Japanese graphic designer Yukio Ota in 1970 and adopted as an international symbol in 1985.
I was sitting in the theatre on Friday evening, waiting for the second half to start, and my eye was drawn to the emergency exit signs. It struck me that there’s a certain sort of tragedy to the running man – although he guides people to the exit, in a real fire his sign will be burnt to a crisp. I wrote the first draft on the train home, and I finished it today.
I found the “when the fire starts” line almost immediately, but the early drafts were more vague about the protagonist. I thought it would be fun to be quite mysterious, to make it a shocking realisation that they’re actually a pictogram. I realised it was too subtle – I don’t think you’d necessarily work out who I was talking about. I rewrote it so you get the “twist” much earlier, and I think the concept still works.
Another change in the second draft was the line breaks. I use semantic linebreaks in my source code, but they get removed in the rendered site. A paragraph gets compressed into a single line. That’s fine for most prose, but I realised I was losing something in this short story. Leaning into the line breaks highlights the repetition and the structure of the words, so I put them back. It gives the story an almost poetic quality.
I’ve always been able to find stories in the everyday and the mundane – a pencil is a rocket ship, a plate is a building, a sock is a cave. The only surprising thing about this idea is that it’s taken me this long to turn the running man into a character in one of my stories.
I really enjoyed writing this, so maybe you’ll see more short stories in the future. I have a lot of ideas, but not much experience turning them into written prose. Watch this space!