the same.”
“There is something about having actual terrain under your feet,” Wit agreed. “Why don’t you lead?” The path was narrow and one of them would have to set the pace.
Marie started moving toward the path. “How about five miles?” she called over her shoulder.
Wit merely blinked. “How about seven?”
Marie laughed. “Three it is,” she agreed and set off.
The thick humidity weighed Marie’s limbs down and she immediately felt her body warm up and grow loose. She picked a steady pace and veered left when the option arose. This path wound through wooded areas and had actual inclines though Marie wouldn’t count them as hills.
Sounds of the city crept through the trees and reminded Wit that life always continued on no matter how lost in his own world he might be. Horns honked in traffic and the hydraulic brakes on delivery trucks squealed. People’s voices were raised in conversations on their cell phones creating a low song all its own.
Wit started out strong. Halfway through their loop he felt his air begin to go. As she ran ahead of him Marie’s ponytail bobbed in a rhythm Wit found distracting and he focused on it, allowing his mind to drift as the curly tail swayed side to side.
The bench beckoned. Wit could see it when they were a tenth of a mile out. He would have sworn there was a golden glow around it letting him know the glorious feeling of sitting was but a few moments away.
Sweat dripped into his eyes and he could feel it streaking down his back. He silently cursed the humidity and then accepted the blame. It was no one’s fault but his own that he was out of shape. He looked at Marie and realized she was barely breathing heavier than normal.
“You make me feel like a slob,” he panted behind her.
“You look like you’re in better shape than you are,” she commented. “It wouldn’t take much work at all to whip you back into shape.”
“A whipping is what it’s going to feel like tomorrow.” He slowed his pace and walked several large circles to cool off. A cart caught his eye. “Can I buy you a hotdog? Or ice cream?” he asked hopefully.
“Did you skip breakfast this morning?”
“That would assume I woke up this morning. Technically, with the schedule I’ve been keeping, this would be dinner.”
“In that case, I’d love a hotdog.”
They sat on the bench with their nitrate enriched lunch. Marie thought nothing had tasted better and, by the look on Wit’s face, he would agree.
“What have you been working on?” she asked him. A bit of relish fell onto her hand and she wiped it carefully with one of the many napkins they’d taken from the dispenser.
Wit swallowed a huge bite and washed the dryness of the bun down with water. “Your project, actually.”
“Oh, really?” Marie had nearly forgotten.
“I think I found your Michael,” he told her. “Assuming everything works like I expect it to I should have more information for you tomorrow.”
Marie gaped at him. “That’s amazing. Do you know where he is?”
“He lives in New Jersey and his name isn’t Michael. It’s James Alan Brandt. And he’s not blond, by the way.”
“Did you go see him?”
“No, I found his driver’s license picture online and compared.”
“That sounds vaguely illegal.”
“I won’t tell if you don’t,” he promised her. “I would have had this information sooner but I’ve been working on another project that will tie into this one. It will take searching for people online to a whole new level.”
Marie finished her bun while she thought about what he had said. “It’s pretty easy to enter someone’s name into a search engine and find out way too much about them. Privacy is melting away.”
Wit grunted in agreement.
“How does your search take it to a new level?” she was curious.
“Well, as it is right now, you can go to Google or something similar and search for a person. You’ll get all sorts of results and they’re generally all
“There is something about having actual terrain under your feet,” Wit agreed. “Why don’t you lead?” The path was narrow and one of them would have to set the pace.
Marie started moving toward the path. “How about five miles?” she called over her shoulder.
Wit merely blinked. “How about seven?”
Marie laughed. “Three it is,” she agreed and set off.
The thick humidity weighed Marie’s limbs down and she immediately felt her body warm up and grow loose. She picked a steady pace and veered left when the option arose. This path wound through wooded areas and had actual inclines though Marie wouldn’t count them as hills.
Sounds of the city crept through the trees and reminded Wit that life always continued on no matter how lost in his own world he might be. Horns honked in traffic and the hydraulic brakes on delivery trucks squealed. People’s voices were raised in conversations on their cell phones creating a low song all its own.
Wit started out strong. Halfway through their loop he felt his air begin to go. As she ran ahead of him Marie’s ponytail bobbed in a rhythm Wit found distracting and he focused on it, allowing his mind to drift as the curly tail swayed side to side.
The bench beckoned. Wit could see it when they were a tenth of a mile out. He would have sworn there was a golden glow around it letting him know the glorious feeling of sitting was but a few moments away.
Sweat dripped into his eyes and he could feel it streaking down his back. He silently cursed the humidity and then accepted the blame. It was no one’s fault but his own that he was out of shape. He looked at Marie and realized she was barely breathing heavier than normal.
“You make me feel like a slob,” he panted behind her.
“You look like you’re in better shape than you are,” she commented. “It wouldn’t take much work at all to whip you back into shape.”
“A whipping is what it’s going to feel like tomorrow.” He slowed his pace and walked several large circles to cool off. A cart caught his eye. “Can I buy you a hotdog? Or ice cream?” he asked hopefully.
“Did you skip breakfast this morning?”
“That would assume I woke up this morning. Technically, with the schedule I’ve been keeping, this would be dinner.”
“In that case, I’d love a hotdog.”
They sat on the bench with their nitrate enriched lunch. Marie thought nothing had tasted better and, by the look on Wit’s face, he would agree.
“What have you been working on?” she asked him. A bit of relish fell onto her hand and she wiped it carefully with one of the many napkins they’d taken from the dispenser.
Wit swallowed a huge bite and washed the dryness of the bun down with water. “Your project, actually.”
“Oh, really?” Marie had nearly forgotten.
“I think I found your Michael,” he told her. “Assuming everything works like I expect it to I should have more information for you tomorrow.”
Marie gaped at him. “That’s amazing. Do you know where he is?”
“He lives in New Jersey and his name isn’t Michael. It’s James Alan Brandt. And he’s not blond, by the way.”
“Did you go see him?”
“No, I found his driver’s license picture online and compared.”
“That sounds vaguely illegal.”
“I won’t tell if you don’t,” he promised her. “I would have had this information sooner but I’ve been working on another project that will tie into this one. It will take searching for people online to a whole new level.”
Marie finished her bun while she thought about what he had said. “It’s pretty easy to enter someone’s name into a search engine and find out way too much about them. Privacy is melting away.”
Wit grunted in agreement.
“How does your search take it to a new level?” she was curious.
“Well, as it is right now, you can go to Google or something similar and search for a person. You’ll get all sorts of results and they’re generally all
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