Monday, 20 October 2008

The 6am Joggers

My alarm goes off. What? Where am I? The sound of the occasional car splashing through the rain outside my window. It's cold and dark. It's the middle of the night. Bleary eyed, barely conscious, I stagger over to the window, cold goosepimpling my flesh. Great puddles of standing water tremble in the gutters, autumn leaves bowling along in a massive wind. I shiver. And then I see a man jogging past! He's alert, awake - and now a woman, going in the opposite direction! I think my body might refuse to move if I tried to run at this time in the morning. Who are these people?


Billy said...

Who are these people?

Freaks? I used to jog home at 2 am from the west end on occasion. Maybe they are just getting home.

Robert Craig said...

And to think you complain about commuting by bus - when you could jog to work, you lazy sod!

Billy said...

I like the smell of rancid sweat in the morning. Some scabby git smelled of stale prawns yesterday. Then someone who reeked so badly of smoke sat next to me - the stench stung my eyes and gave me a headache. His puss was bright cherry red as he tried to absorb oxygen through his skin as he has no doubt gubbed his lungs.

Come to think of it, perhaps jogging with a knacked ankle is better than that.

Robert Craig said...

Aye - for him!