Early mornings have become my new favorite.
Me, my dog, La Niña. Streets deserted… crows roosting on power lines… a warm breeze… a stale fart escaping the Ergo… ah.
Occasionally she’ll start crying and I’ll back up to someone’s bedroom so they can share in the bittersweetness of the moment.
I nod to the firemen, nurses, jailers and hobos coming off their nightshifts as we head into the beanery that has my morning crack.
Later, I will conjure pithy backstories for the joggers we pass:
Acne survivor
Running to cure dandruff
Soon to be divorced
‘80s spandex thief
Desperate has-been
Latvian porn star
However, today we saw a jogger who didn't fit any of the above categories. In fact, this woman looked pretty much how I imagined my daughter would look when she grows up. Solid, happy, healthy… a rarity in this town.
She wasn’t one of those butt-flossing aerobicists or powershaking yogis or anything. Just strong, fast, focused. The kinda chick who’d slap you with a heel of stoneground oatbread if you were on a date and weren’t paying attention.
I pat Kaia's muscular back. Oh that’ll be daddy’s girl alright.
No comments:
Post a Comment