The Jogger and the Dog Walker (Stefanielle)

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I usually run in the morning.

I especially like it during autumn.

When the leaves are falling in an array of colours, a small amount of dew painted on the grass, the noise it makes as my feet trample on leaves.

Barrett, my best friend, has never understood why I like to get up early to run. She always says... "Why would you run when you can sleep? I don't really think I need to back my point up with anything,"

I usually just roll my eyes at her and tell her to join me one day.

"Sure," She scoffs.

It's almost a routine for us, this conversation.

But I've learnt to be quiet when I do get ready in the morning because a Barrett that has involuntarily woken up is most definitely not a happy Barrett.

Not to mention she's usually hungover.

The route I usually take is nice. Just over two miles long. One way that is.

When I come out of the apartment block, I begin jogging, to the right, straight towards the statue of two hands intertwined.

The streets I run down are all straight, no slopes or dips. 

The park I go to is beautiful, very picturesque. There's normally a few joggers there in the morning and some dog walkers, the odd business man briskly walking.

Early hours.

In the spring, it's very pretty. Pale pink blossom trees line the pathway and before you know it, they've changed to the reds, oranges and yellows of autumn.

I couldn't tell you the exact measurements of the park but it's massive. The grass stretches far out and trees usually obscure your vision from one end to another.

I do my lap of the park and head back the same way.

Some of the cafes are beginning to open and more people seem to be spread out on the streets, but it's still quite calm.

My ear phones usually give me the illusion of being in a movie. When I jog, I look at people and wonder why they're out so early. It's normally quite easy.

Dog walker... jogger... cafe owner.... nurse just finished the night shift.... businessman

But sometimes I see someone different.

A woman dressed in tight fitting leather trousers and white crop top with shoulder pads.

I imagined her as a rock star who was returning from her concert after finishing a show. But then again, she probably wouldn't be walking the streets at this time by herself.

I never saw her again.

I remember seeing this boy once, a teenager with light brown hair, mostly hidden beneath a blue beanie. He was wearing black trousers and a red sweatshirt. Headphones on top of his beanie.

He wasn't rushing, but I wondered why he was out so early. I'd only seen him... three times I think. About a month apart each time and each time he looked a bit paler, a bit thinner, a bit more tired.

Today is October 17th. Monday. 5:45am.

Is it weird that the idea of sleeping in has never appealed to me?

I pull myself out of bed and open my curtains. The sun was beginning to break through the cracks.

I love the sun but I love the moon a bit more. I always have. I tend to personify the moon as a person, a friend.

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