Running Man

I stroll around the park, mulling over my next 100-word story.

A scrawny bald man hurtles towards me.

“Ian?”

“Bill?”

He stops.

“10K training, 8 laps of the park - my 99th half-marathon’s on Sunday.”

“Wow!”

“But no full marathons now after my knee surgeries.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, impact injuries.”

Divorced, kids grown up, running has been the constant in his life.

“Still running, Ian?”

“Just jogging and some yoga.”

“Get back into it!” he says fervently.

Telling me his Facebook address he sprints off.

Leaving the park, I watch him running around in circles, the perfect subject for my story.

From Guest Contributor Ian Fletcher

Born and raised in Cardiff, Wales, Ian has an MA in English from Oxford University. He has had poems and short stories published in Schlock! Webzine, 1947 A Literary Journal, Dead Snakes, Short-story.me, Anotherealm, Under the Bed, A Story In 100 Words, Poems and Poetry, Friday Flash Fiction, and in various anthologies.

The Do-Gooder From Beyond The Grave

Shit! Here he comes.

“I’m running for cancer research on Sunday.”

“Oh, yeah?” I say looking at the gaunt face, an over-achiever in athletics as well as the office.

“Will you sponsor me? Most are pitching in a pound or two per mile.”

Christ, a fucking half-marathon.

I pledge a pound.

“Thanks, it’s a good cause.”

Monday morning. He’s late, he’s never late.

“Bad news,” says the boss. “Mike collapsed and died after the race.”

Thirteen quid saved, I think amidst the office tears.

“I suggest we all double our contributions to show respect,” says the boss.

God damn him!

From Guest Contributor Ian Fletcher

Ian has an MA in English from Oxford University. He has had short stories and poems published in Schlock! Webzine, Short-story.me, Anotherealm, Under the Bed, A Story In 100 Words, Friday Flash Fiction, Dead Snakes, 1947 A Literary Journal, and in various anthologies. He is an Affiliate Member of the Horror Writers Association.