Drabble: two people running

You always loved running. Noise-canceling headphones over your ears, iPod clipped to your shorts, you'd lose yourself in the miles. Your stress spooled out like cable on the treadmill: breath, breath, breath. Your face shone with the pure sweat of the diligent.

Music wasn't enough for me to ignore the tedium, the loss of breath. I counted the steps, watched the clock. Wanted it over. Ran as little as possible.

Funny, isn't it. My feet took me so much further than I'd ever intended to go, and you're still running in place.

Oh, wow, Kristin. That's a good one.

Thanks Sail. In a more coherent state, I fixed the last line.

Oh, yes. That change made a big difference. I still like it, but better!

Topic? I ran across one in my endless surfing..."The last thing you touched," Which could be a dog if everyone writes about her/his mouse, but I suppose you wouldn't have to take "thing" or "touched" literally.

That's a good one, erika! We'll go with that.

Challenge #87 (two people, running) is now closed.

Challenge #88 is the last thing you touched.

Don't get overly literal and write about your keyboard, por favor.

Hmph. I just went to the bathroom. I think I'm going to have to think this one over.

The Last Thing I Touched

Paper angels attached to toys and clothing. A dump truck, a winter coat. A doll, a stuffed animal. Toys for babies and bikes for kids. Some gifts extravagant, some very simple.

I move the ever growing pile from an empty cubicle to an empty storeroom. The sheer volume of them astounds me.

Gifts for unknown children from unknown adults. Feelings and tears well up inside my chest. What is this I feel? What are these things I have touched? Toys and clothing only?

No. It is hope.

I have touched hope.

Generosity.

Love.

Charity.

And the true meaning of Christmas.

Awwww, Aimee. That's so sweet.

(And I want to read about Connie's butt....)

No, you don't. Especially after Aimee gets all heart-felt and everything.