Writing Resources from Fifteen Minutes of Fiction

The Mantra

It wasn't so much a pep talk as it was a mantra that I repeated between breaths, "Go, go, chunky girl." The propect of sustaining my runner's high dimmed as I was repeatedly lapped by runners with taunt, long legs. They appeared to be from a different species: Homo shapiens or homo sportiens.

Forty-five minutes after beginning the five-k, I waddled across the finish line. One of my species, a homo flabbiens, approached. He was red-faced, sweaty, unathletic-looking, and holding a paper cup of cold water. I thought he was beautiful.

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