Morning Jog

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Abstract

rough a deserted street. Her crystal blue eyes watch for signs of an intruder. A bum lies sleeping in the doorway of a pawn shop. She spots two abandoned cars in a parking lot next to an empty building. Her breathing is labored, difficult. She imagines her husband still asleep in their queen-size bed. His snoring echoes in her ears. She

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chuckles at the thought of him, sneaking into bed last night, trying so hard not to wake her, then tripping over the dog. All hell broke loose. He had been so embarrassed. She reaches the end of the block and turns right over the bridge. The sun feels good on her face.</p><p id="79ba">Copyright ©2020 by Harley King</p></article></body>

Story-Poem

A hollow sun rises over the raging river. Sweat drenches her cheeks as she jogs north through a deserted street. Her crystal blue eyes watch for signs of an intruder. A bum lies sleeping in the doorway of a pawn shop. She spots two abandoned cars in a parking lot next to an empty building. Her breathing is labored, difficult. She imagines her husband still asleep in their queen-size bed. His snoring echoes in her ears. She chuckles at the thought of him, sneaking into bed last night, trying so hard not to wake her, then tripping over the dog. All hell broke loose. He had been so embarrassed. She reaches the end of the block and turns right over the bridge. The sun feels good on her face.