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 told herself, but the thought was more a request than demand. She didn’t feel like pushing it, whether she should or not.
Maintaining her pace, she jogged past the empty bench and the weedy grass. The complex really should landscape, she mused. Maybe put in some shade trees… or even a weeping willow. Weeping willows like water. And get rid of that ugly 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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