JANE TOUCHED HER neck, checking her pulse. Third time around the lake, and she was keeping steady at 98 bpm.
How frustrating. “Push it, girl,” she muttered out loud. “You want a skinny ass? Push it. Push it, dammit!”
It didn’t work. She didn’t feel like pushing it, whether she should or not.
Maintaining her tepid pace, she jogged past the empty bench and the weedy grass. Ugly ass bench, she thought for the millionth time. Are they going to landscape? $350 a month in HOA fees and all we get is an ugly ass bench. Could they put in some shade trees? What about a weeping willow. Weeping willows like water. And nuke the bench.
Another runner jogged past, nodding his head at her. She waved and headed for home. Hopefully, Dick will have started dinner.
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