Treading The Waters [on hold]

Chapter Six

I missed running. Back in L.A. I used to run almost daily. Ever since I've been back home though, I've been a bit lazy. I've been blaming it on the adjustment period, but I think I've just been pitying myself.

No more though. If I'm going to be inspired, I need to get back to the things that I love. And although most would think I'm crazy, I actually do love running.

When I run, I get to see things that most people wouldn't on a normal day. I get to see the sun rise further in the sky. I get to watch the birds search for food for their chicks. I watch the plants come to life at the sight of the morning sun after a long night's rest.

I get to watch life bloom. I get to feel the air enter my chest, pushing me to keep going and experience more of nature's beauty. The vast colors of life. All this beauty is the result of creation, and if this doesn't inspire me, I'm not sure what will.

Twigs and dirt crunch under my feet as I pick up my pace, getting closer to where the path merges with the main road that leads back to my house. As I get closer to the gravel, I hear more footsteps before I follow the direction they're coming from.

I see Jensen before he sees me, and I practically jump off the path into a grove lined with bushes. I'm trying to avoid him and yet here he is running the same path as me.

Stupid small towns. How the hell am I supposed to avoid someone when they're literally everywhere I go?

As I peek around the bush, his head swivels in my direction and I quickly duck back under, praying to whoever will hear me that he doesn't get curious and come looking.

I'm not here. I'm not here. I'm not here.

After a few minutes, I hear his footsteps retreating in the direction towards his house. I decide to give it just another minute – you know, safety and all – before emerging from my cover and heading back in the direction of my own house.

I've only run about a mile or so, and town is only two miles from here. In a split second, I've made the decision to run into town instead of going home because I haven't had a coffee fix today and Gina's shop has some of the best coffee and donuts this side of Western North Carolina. At least in my opinion.

It only takes me about fifteen minutes to run the two miles into town, and I can smell the baked goods the closer I get to Gina's shop.

As I walk inside, I accidentally bump into someone. She looks a little out of place, dressed for somewhere like L.A. or New York, not a place like this.

"I'm so sorry," I exclaim, nearly knocking over the coffees in her tray.

"It's fine," she bites. "Nothing was lost. You're good."

She continues past me out the door, and I say, "Have a nice day!" She just ignores me and keeps walking down the sidewalk.

Okay, rude.