by Carol Kuczek
Geared in running garb, I head out the door. The Peterson’s dog gives his friendly bark inside a fenced yard. I stop to give him a pat on the head. I turn left onto Maple Street. My shoes slap against the pavement as I run along the designated bike lane. I pick up speed. My heart rate increases. After several intersections, I turn onto Hickory to start my loop back to my house. An eighty-year-old man scoops up his paper off his porch. I shout good morning. He grunts back. Every day he manages to get his paper at precisely the time I run by. Is he flirting with me? I chuckle.
I’m in the final lap of my run. I notice workmen blocking the lane up ahead. I swing across the street and make my way onto the sidewalk before I realize the large limb they chainsawed is coming down in my direction. I decide to hurtle it. In that instant, I feel strong arms around my waist lifting me to safety. I look up at the face of this gorgeous, hunk of a man.
I bat my eyes. “Where are you trimming trees tomorrow?”
Carol Kuczek is an artist and writer. She works in various media including her latest passion, watercolors. She has had several short stories published. Now retired, Carol enjoys traveling.
She will be going to England this summer.