05-14-2018, 01:03 PM
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she had to wonder if she'd have ever played sports, in another life. she figured she would have grown up in italy, where her parents had lived before they moved south. soccer, that had been the sport then, right? maybe she would have gotten into soccer. she was fast enough, quick on her feet, packed a hard kick. but she was thinking about what she'd do as who she was - if she'd grown up some other way, she'd be entirely different. maybe things would hurt her. maybe she'd prefer reading over running. maybe she'd be a doctor or a teacher, someone who helps lives instead of hurting them.
she'd been twisting herself into a trunk twist, a small crack escaping her back, when he approached. how far we running, again? she tried not to laugh at that, because him asking certainly wasn't a good sign. "depends on what you can take." she says, straightening, a smile playing at the corners of her lips, one brow quirking. "think you can do ten?" and, as though she worried he'd think yards or minutes, the smile grew. "miles, i mean. but i don't normally measure distance, i just go until i can't. or you can't, i suppose." it was a playful sort of jab, friendly fire per say.
"do you want to stretch?" she'd inquire, not sure if he already had at home. or maybe he'd think he didn't need to stretch, and learn his lesson the hard way, like she had too many times before. beth, the little old man with skin like leather and hair like little wisps atop his head, he'd always snicker at her when her legs would cramp up, poking her with his foot and calling her stupid. god, she missed beth.
she had to wonder if she'd have ever played sports, in another life. she figured she would have grown up in italy, where her parents had lived before they moved south. soccer, that had been the sport then, right? maybe she would have gotten into soccer. she was fast enough, quick on her feet, packed a hard kick. but she was thinking about what she'd do as who she was - if she'd grown up some other way, she'd be entirely different. maybe things would hurt her. maybe she'd prefer reading over running. maybe she'd be a doctor or a teacher, someone who helps lives instead of hurting them.
she'd been twisting herself into a trunk twist, a small crack escaping her back, when he approached. how far we running, again? she tried not to laugh at that, because him asking certainly wasn't a good sign. "depends on what you can take." she says, straightening, a smile playing at the corners of her lips, one brow quirking. "think you can do ten?" and, as though she worried he'd think yards or minutes, the smile grew. "miles, i mean. but i don't normally measure distance, i just go until i can't. or you can't, i suppose." it was a playful sort of jab, friendly fire per say.
"do you want to stretch?" she'd inquire, not sure if he already had at home. or maybe he'd think he didn't need to stretch, and learn his lesson the hard way, like she had too many times before. beth, the little old man with skin like leather and hair like little wisps atop his head, he'd always snicker at her when her legs would cramp up, poking her with his foot and calling her stupid. god, she missed beth.