THE JOGGER
A short story about Eternity
Her posterior parts were what I first noticed – little pink jogging shorts, blond hair to her
waist and legs al-l-l the way to the ground. Hmmm.
I guess she had noticed me also or at least it felt like it. She jogged by one day as I was
sitting on a park bench catching my breath after a hard five miles.
“It’s a nice day.” She said almost seductively
.
“Yes it is” I responded. I wanted to ask her name but she was already far down the path.
“Wait.” I yelled “What’s your name?”
“You know my name” she yelled back over her shoulder as she jogged across the nearby
street “and you know how to find me.”
By this time I was running after her “Wait. Come back. I don’t know what you are talking
about.”
“Look in the book.” Was the last thing I heard as she rounded a corner and was gone –
just disappeared.
“What book? Where do I look and at what book?” I was wasting my breath.
“I haven’t a clue what she means” I muttered to myself “but she sure looks like she is worth
the effort to do a little investigating – if I knew where to start.”
I returned to that park bench every day for two weeks hoping The Jogger would show up
again – but no such luck. There were a lot of nice trim posteriors with long blond hair and I did
enjoy their ‘form’ but not my Jogger. I could only wait and hope that she would contact me. In
the meantime I had the dubious duty of checking out all the joggers with long blond hair and
trim posteriors (I may have also glanced at a redhead or two) in hopes that one of them was
my Jogger.