10 – Running Out of Time

Running Out of Time
by #10
Genre – Paranormal
Words – 456

Two months had passed since my death. Had it been that long? Yes, that’s right. Two months of wandering down streets where no one saw me. Of flitting away my time watching a dog or two chase a chipmunk or squirrel in the park. There had been no purpose to life, or death as it were. No reason for being. Until the day I met Bradley, that is. He looked so handsome. Red hair, green eyes, and amazing muscles.
I sat on the bench, watching a nearby vendor hock fried chocolate Oreos and other sweetened foods so caustic they hurried even the healthiest of people along the path to death. They even had a small tube filled with gelled sugar the children seemed to love. The ineptitude of those parents shock me. Not only do they not ban the goo, they actually buy it for them. And the poor dears have no idea what it will do to—. Umm, I’m getting away from the story. I’ll get off my mental soapbox for an instant.
So I’m sitting on the bench and Bradley sped by me. He checked his wristwatch. Two fingers pressed to the strong muscles of his throat, he kept his eyes on the metal band. His body, the very definition of a love machine, moved in steady time. He clenched his jaw, but he barely even puffed. His rounded butt clenched as he passed me, and I stared, wishing I could grab the firm—. Woah, I’m getting off topic. Anyhow…
“Look out!”
The scream of warning caught him mid-stride and he looked up just in time to collide with a man on a girl’s bike, complete with a bell on the handle. Can you believe it? And down they went, falling together in a tangled heap, limbs entwining with each other and the bike simultaneously. The impact didn’t seem great, but Bradley clutched his chest, gasping for breath, then stilled.
Onlookers crowded in, some trying to help, others only interested in gathering gossip. The man who hit him blew into his mouth, pumping his chest before breathing into him again. After a moment, a familiar shimmer began at the edges of his body, spreading along his thick arms and toned legs until finally it converged on his heart.
He sat up, even as the man worked on his discarded body.
“Hi. My name’s Lucy.” I know, lame right? But I couldn’t think of anything else to say at the moment.
He shook his head and turned toward me. Our eyes met across the crowd of men and women who surrounded his body. I knew he was the one for me in that very instant, and the rest—as they say—is history.


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