"You'd think by all the looks I get at the gym lately that people have never seen a prego gal work out!" This was the first status update I saw when I logged into FB. Using it as the prompt, I took it in a slightly different direction, but the inspiration is still there.
Light blue clouds flanked the dark navy sky in the east. Right above the horizon line, streaks of pink ran into the blues and announced the imminent arrival of the sun. The ground was still wet from the previous night's rain. The air felt crisp and clean as if the city had been through a giant carwash. Olivia pulled her iPod from her jacket pocket and struggled to untangle the thin white cord stretching to the earbuds. She placed them in her ears and switched to her "happy jogging" playlist Matthew had created for her. It usually made her smile every time she saw it pop up in the menu.
Technology might change, but the sentiment behind a finely-crafted mixtape never did. The last she'd received was a cassette tape given to her in her late 20s by her friend, Jones. They both volunteered with a small non-profit organization that fed meals to the homeless and near-homeless people in the community. They had a great time together and there were always a lot of laughs with Jones. But as is often the case in those types of friendships, his concept of their friendship changed. He wanted it to grow into a romance, and she was completely content at being friends. Jones, being a shy and unassuming guy, never came out and really said anything to her directly, but after a long volunteer weekend with a couple of other friends, he'd given her a mix tape of old doo-wop songs. Most people would have thought it was strange, but she had told him one time that she felt like a geek for watching a doo-wop marathon event they had on the local PBS station. She loved that old music. He'd listened and remembered it.
The playlist Matthew had created for her started, and she adjusted the volume before stretching for a minute. After the short stretch, she started out with a slow pace and felt the cobwebs in her head begin to disappear with the increase in her heart rate and breathing. Olivia ran down the promenade along the small inlet on the Tacoma waterfront. The condos overlooking the water were virtually empty, and it always seemed eerie to her for those few owners that did live in a mostly vacant building. She increased her speed as she passed the back of the glass museum and up the stairs leading to the breezeway that would take her to Pacific Avenue. It looked like it was going to be a nice day, and she was glad. She needed a little sunshine.