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Writer's pictureKem Smith

Landscape

And so it begins…The walk. I’ve decided to earn one of those stickers. The ones in black and white. Minivans and mini coopers have them. Skinny people display them and tote their Asics tennis shoes. The famous 26.2 bumper sticker. Today, may not have been the best day to start as the temperature is expected to soar over one hundred by ten am.

Fortunately, I rise early riser. The sun at my back, I strike off. Mile one had to be the easiest. Jay Z can get you through anything. However, my phone flashed the infamous low battery alert in the middle of mile two.

“Are you kidding me?” I ask out loud.

No worries. There’s no one around to hear me. They were doing what I used to do on Saturday mornings, sleeping. The sun has killed my neighbors grass. Cars, though few, sail past. Suddenly, I am thirsty. Not regular thirst…parched, dying.

Why do people buy the Ascics? They hurt my feet, right under the bottom or is that my arches falling?  I heard you can feel an arch when it falls. I think the crack in the sidewalk may kill me. I jump over it. Bad idea. I land hard on that old high school cheerleading injury. Two point eight miles and my arches have fallen, my feet hurt, and I’m thirsty. What is that? A bench. I’ll sit here and catch my breath. Wow…is that the Metro bus coming this way? I’ve seen them go past my house. Is he…yes, I believe he is.

“Excuse me, Sir.” I ask the dark skinned man as he opens the door to the bus. “Do you accept Visa?”

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