The agency of repression closed the yard for my contribution to RDTW, this weekend before the fall, 2026. The passage of time is revealing a rift between the concrete paving the small courtyards that remained open and the knees. The hamstrings and the ridiculously curved treadmills have a similar schism. So I rode an elliptical into the fray to Run Down the Walls. I let ’em have both legs three days and then again two days before the fall, 19 & 20 September. I had to do some slithering to access the venue the second day, but so it goes in life with big brother And the day before the fall, I write this report. Plus, I may have added one more means of motion to run down the walls: rowing. After my engagements on the ellipticals had ended, I wrestled the rowing machine to wring a few more gritty grains from the walls.
As my feet pushed ever forward and my arms aided and abetted, the elliptical didn’t carry me any where but figuratively. My forced presence in that physical moment, however, let me, made me, invited me me to notice the little drops of sweat hitting the concrete floor as they dripped off me. At first, just a few isolated individuals dotted the scuzzy gym floor–literal drops in the bucket, but without even a bucket. But the drops started coming in numbers, and their dots started running into each other. They started making bigger splats together than by themselves. They started to run together into a puddle. Not much of a puddle, but a puddle. Tiny ripples started to appear–and what is a ripple but a baby wave? Making waves in a social order like ours is always good. Some drops hitting the nascent puddle launched diminutive splashes, maybe reaching as far as the wall, where some of them eroded and ran off with some molecules of wall. Best of all, drops and splats and small ripples from the guy sweating on the next machine started running together with mine. Don’t know where he came from. Don’t know what car he rode in. But he was throwing down some work for a better future like I was. And our collective drops of sweat were conquering the entire floor.
May your Fall be a season of of connection, progress, and feeling good!
The future holds promise!
Bill Dunne
21 September 2026
Bill Dunne #10916 086
FCI Butner Medium II
Post Office Box 1500
Butner, North Carolina 27509