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Writing > Users > Aimster du Clarkentine > 2008

Writing Resources from Fifteen Minutes of Fiction

The following is a piece of writing submitted by Aimster du Clarkentine on February 1, 2008
"The jogger is based on me, and the thoughts of mortality resulted after a handful of people I knew died around the same time."

A Jog in the Dark

A Jog in the Dark

An eerie darkness had settled over the little town. "Only 5:30. Wish it would stay light longer." She finished tying her key onto her shoe lace and tucked it in so it wouldn't bounce about when she jogged. The frigid wind cut through her clothes, making her shiver as she put her ear warmers on. "Quick jog. Won't be too bad. Got my key? Yup. Car's locked? Yup. No freaky stalker people lurking around? Hope not"...She glanced warily in the direction of an alley. With her ears covered to protect them from the cold, she tried to be more visually observant since her hearing was now impaired. The darkness surely wasn't helping. A couple times a year she'd hear stories on the news about abductions or murders of women who went walking or running alone. "Wish I had someone to jog with."

After a long day of work at a desk job and a few too many sweets during break, she really needed to stretch her legs and burn some calories. She wanted to jog not to lose weight, though she did miss her favorite pair of pants, but to get her lungs into shape. Fearing she'd become like her grandmother, who wheezed after climbing as few as eight stairs, the young woman figured she ought to do her body a favor and get moving. Her knee, however, protested about halfway through her route. "Ugh. I'm falling apart and not even in my 30s yet." The recurring injury wasn't too nagging this time, so she kept going. "Wonder if I'll end up regretting this again." A dog suddenly barked viciously, startling her. The jogger's pupils widened even further and her heart raced faster. She located the little beast behind its fence and smiled at her jumpiness. "C'mon, girl. It's a small town. You're pretty safe."

Although she was wearing a reflector belt, she still stopped at the sidewalk's end and waited for a van to turn in front of her. "Never know if they're paying attention." It passed and she continued, turning into a neighborhood she liked because of the cute house on the end of the street. "When I get a home, I'm going to plant creeping roses that climb up a trellis. Have a golden retriever." The future seemed bright and her goals attainable. Why shouldn't she reach them? She was young and had plenty of time to make them happen.

Or did she?

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