Pedestrian Coma

Just a lovely piece of writing by Helen Dunstan!

Fremantle is a city of pedestrians. There are people walking or running everywhere, patrolling the shoreline, marching through parks, being taken for walks by their dogs or simply strolling the pavements to the nearest coffee shop. I often stump along myself becoming part of this shifting sea of humanity. Many of these walkers and runners smile and say “Good morning”, as they pass by, however, there are also those who do not.

These other dedicated movers clock up the milage or count their steps in a world sealed off from the hoi-polloi. Their bodies are toned, sleek with sweat and on their feet, they wear brightly coloured, hi-tec, shock absorbing runners. Singlets and shorts match perfectly, while their heads sport visors or tight-fitting caps. Most importantly, both ears are stopped up with plastic ear buds or covered by headphones. These devices generate enough sound to drown out everything audible in the real world through which they run. They become separate.

They do not hear the whisper of the wind through the tree tops, the suck and sigh of the sea rushing to shore. Nor do they hear the whistle of the willy-wag-tail, the morning song of magpies or the cry and flutter of red-tailed cockatoos flying high. There is no time for the pause of “Good morning”, the smile and nod to other pedestrians. If one looks closely, one can see their eyes are a little glazed, focused on the pavement in front of them where their legs move with steady repetitionand their lungs and hearts work hard to keep them moving.

All the world is blocked out.

Can they see to recognise what they pass by? Do they feel the sun, wind or rain on their skin? Do they notice? Can they recognise the breath of car exhausts, rumble of trucks orsnuffle of passing dogs? We will never know.

The voices in their ears are disembodied. They could be listening to podcasts or allowing music to filter into their brains as Fremantle rolls by. Perhaps alien voices are transmitting messages directly to their brain cells, infiltrating human codes with preparation for the great invasion and coming apocalypse. Perhaps the AI leaders running the world have caught them locked in an algorithm they can never escape.

On they run, on they walk, striding into infinity and beyond. Those of us without headphones or ear buds are left to wander through the morning, taking the air, smelling the roses and being left well behind.