A Writer's Journey

April 18, 2016

Spring Fling

Filed under: journey,writing — mackenziew @ 12:00 am
Tags: , ,

How about another little short story, hmm?

She blames it on the sunshine. On the warm breezes and light floral scent in the air. It went to her head, she tells herself.

It happens in late April. She goes to the park for a walk, to clear her head after work and enjoy the fresh air. As she walks around the lake, she spots him. He is jogging, earbuds planted firmly in his ears. She watches as he stops, stretching against a bench. Licking her lips, she openly ogles at his muscles and how they ripple under his thin t-shirt.

She knows it’s shallow but she’s allowed this. That’s what she tells herself. After all, she isn’t hurting anyone. It’s not like he’ll ever know. He doesn’t even know she’s there.

When he starts running again, she decides to head home. As she walks, she hears the unmistakable sound of sneakers slapping against the pavement behind her. She moves to the side to let the jogger pass, but they don’t. The sound keeps pace with her.

Confused, she stops and turns around. The jogger is there, grinning at her. “Hello,” he says.

“Hi,” she replies, feeling brainless.

“I saw you watching me.”

Her cheeks burn. “Oops. Sorry.”

“Oh no,” he replies. “It was quite flattering.”

“Still…I didn’t mean to stare.”

“Well, I do.” He crosses his arms as he leans back, eyes sweeping over her.

A thrill courses through her. “I hope you like what you see.”

Is she flirting? She never flirts. What is coming over her?

“I certainly do,” he replies, stepping closer. “And I hope to see more of it.”

Well, he definitely is flirting. And she likes it.

So she steps closer to him. “Well, I guess that can be arranged.”

“Glad to hear that,” he says. “Though I wish I had a business card to give you.”

“Don’t worry. I do.” She reaches into her purse and pulls out a crisp white card, handing it to him.

He takes it and nods. “I’ll be sure to give you a call…Caroline. What a pretty name.”

“Thank you. And do I get to know yours?”

“Maybe,” he replies, winking. “Or maybe I’ll just keep you guessing. Add some mystery.”

“How will I know it’s you when you call?”

“Good question. I’ll call myself Mr. Jogger. How’s that?”

She shrugs. “I guess that’ll work.”

“Then I’ll talk you you later, Sweet Caroline.” He winks and starts jogging again, passing her.

Caroline rolls her eyes. But she smiles. He is tall, dark, handsome and mysterious. She knows he’s going to break her heart. It just seems to be his way.

But she’s going to enjoy it while it lasts.

Smiling, Caroline turns her face to the fading sun and heads home with a bounce in her step.

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