“Wiping the rivulet of sweat running down my ear with the bottom of my muscle shirt, I snuck a sniff under my pit. Whoa. Kill a moose”

“Well.” Giving a sniff, I tossed my hair back and walked through the door. “That’s the last time I ever offer you a shoulder to cry on.”“Hallelujah,” he muttered.Ingrate.But he nudged my shoulder, leaned down, mouth right by my ear, T-shirt brushing against my sleeve, and whispered, “Thanks, K. You’re sweet, you know that?”It was so unexpected that I felt my cheeks burn.”

“I was nearly unnerved at my proximity to a nameless thing at the bottom of a pit.”

“Running doesn't just make me happy. Running keeps me alive. When I'm running-the blood pumping through my veins, the tunes playing in my ears, the muscles tightening on the inclines- the problems of the world disappear. It's just me, the sidewalk, and God.”

“It was all I could do to keep from lunging across the table and pressing my shuttering lips against his burning flesh. My palms were sweating profusely causing me to have to wipe them against my jeans under the table. Those last few seconds had felt like a lifetime in pause.”

“The lunchmeat fell on the floor, and I didn’t know what to do, so I wiped it off on the bottom of my shoe and served it to my boss. Ah, but that’s life, no?”