Sweet Lovin Kayla Cumsalot 1844-33-CANDY ext 357
There’s a trail I run, every morning before I’ve eaten breakfast, through the park near my house. It’s always quiet, and the same faces greet me every day. An older Asian lady, who does her stretches as the sun rises, and a teenage boy who walks his small pet while scrolling on his phone. The birds chirp their morning songs as we all go about our business. Day in, day out.
One morning, an older man appeared. He sits on the bench where the trail bends near the wood line, reading a newspaper and sipping on a fast food cup of coffee. Each time I pass him, my hand lifts in a kind wave, and he always nods his head with a smile. I can’t even recall when he started showing up, but now he is there every day, just like the rest of us.
To Eat or Be Eaten
Today seemed the same as every other day. I strapped into my sneakers and adjusted my sports bra. My feet pounded the gravel trail at a pace I knew I could keep for a long while. I shook my head at the teenager when he didn’t even see me pass him. My face lit up as I jogged by the older woman. Her hand waved to me as she reached way over her head while bending to the side.
Everything was normal until I reached the bend near the wood line. The normally packed trail gave way under my foot as I waved to him. The toes of my right foot dipped into the soft hole that I hadn’t noticed, and my ankle twisted sideways. Dropping me to the dirt.
“Fu-ouch!” I cussed, barely catching myself with my hands. Tiny bits of rock and sand dug into my skin, and my ankle screamed with pain.
The Beginning of the End
“Oh, dear!” The older gentleman spoke. It was the first time I’d heard his voice, and it was kind and full of compassion. He dropped his newspaper to the side and leaned forward. His body looked fragile when he tried to kneel on the ground by my side. “Are you alright?”
“I’m fine.” I gritted through my teeth. As worried as I was about my own condition, I didn’t want him to get into a position neither of us could get him out of. He placed a gentle hand behind my back, and his other hand hovered over my injured ankle.
“That doesn’t look good.” He stated the obvious. My ankle was already beginning to swell, and the pain was throbbing up my calf. Tears of frustration and pain strung to my eyes, and my hands clutched at my right knee, too afraid to touch any lower.
I whimpered and tried to bite back the pain. “I’m okay. I’m okay.” I repeated. However,
Something Isn’t Quite Right
“You aren’t.” He grinned, and the tiny hairs on the back of my neck stood up on end. A chill raced up my spine, and that’s when a glint of something sparkly caught my eye.
A shovel? Just off to the side of the old man’s bench?
He pulled a handkerchief out of his jacket pocket and dabbed the tears spilling from my eyes. There was a second where I noticed a sickly, sweet scent, and then things began to feel …foggy. My body slumped, and I had no control. “There, there.” He smirked. “All is as it should be.”
To Be Continued…
Sweet Lovin Kayla Cumsalot 1844-33-CANDY ext 357