A Fine Mist of Rain Fell

I stepped out on to the street and pulled my gate shut. The air was cold, I shivered. I pulled my collar up around my neck as my body vibrated momentarily underneath, shivered. It was early, the full veil of the morning hadn't quite lifted. The light was grey, a fine mist of rain fell.

I had only taken a few steps when I heard, pad, pad, pad behind me. Then whoosh, a jogger whirled passed me. I stepped sideways and out of the way. I mean, he probably wasn't going so fast, maybe I was still on slow, no coffee yet, no heart starter to make my eyes fully open.

I heard him snort and pant, gasp in, exhale. I watched his legs, like springs, propel him past me. I watched his ankles flip up behind him and then push his feet to the ground, straightening as his shoes touched down on the bitumen. The backs of his wide-legged black shorts flapped with each step. The was a hint of his red jocks underneath hugging him tight. His arms swung rhythmically, matching his breaths.

His back was straight, his head was up, he pranced. he was  a fine specimen.

He flipped around the corner at the intersection and was gone. He was nowhere to be seen when I turned that same corner a few moments later.

The street was quiet again, except for my short, sharp breaths sounding in my ears. And the clop, clop, clop of my own feet. The morning air was cold on my face. I yawned. The inhale of breath was cold. I looked both ways on the street, and then I crossed over to the other side and continued my walk. A car drove past me on the street, otherwise it was early and it was only me making my way in the deserted street.