Flash Fiction Friday: Fear to Flutters

Cara jogged through the park just like she did every evening.  But today she had gotten a late start and shadows were falling.  She tried not to rush to the end of the trail though her nerves were tense.  She imagined that a threat lurked behind each bush.

Was that the sound of someone jogging behind me?  Is it just another jogger or something more sinister?  I didn’t encounter any other joggers along the path this evening.

There it was again.  Cara sprinted looking over her shoulder.  She didn’t see anything.


Cara had run into someone, a male someone.  He held her arms against his broad chest, which was in her direct line of sight.  She lifted her head until she could see his face, meet his eyes.

“Cara, is that you?”

“Jerrod?”  He worked on the same floor of the office building she worked on.  She had seen him walking across the floor several times.  He was the best looking guy in the company with his coal black hair, deep blue eyes, strong jawline and dimpled chin.

Great.  The hottest guy in the office and I have to run into him when I’m dressed in shorts and a t-shirt, my hair in a sweaty ponytail.  

“It is you.  I didn’t know you were a jogger.  Do you jog here often?”

“I jog here every evening but I’m usually finished by now.”

“Are you okay?  You seemed a bit frightened and in a hurry when we bumped into each other.”

“I think I was just letting my imagination get away with me because of the shadows.”

“May I escort you to your car?”

“I would appreciate that,” said Cara.

“I come here to jog when I’ve had a stressful day.  It helps me to unwind.”

Cara noticed that Jerrod was wearing sweat pants and a t-shirt.

“So, you live in this area?”  Jerrod asked.

“Yes, I do.  I usually walk from home, jog through the park and walk home again, but tonight I drove since I was running late.  How about you?”

“I live about two blocks from here on Park Street.  Listen, would you like to have dinner sometime?”

Cara looked at Jerrod.  Was he interested in spending time with her or was he just trying to be nice because she had run into him?  Did it matter?  She hadn’t had a date in a long time.

“I’d love to.”

“How about this Friday night?”

They had reached Cara’s car.  She unlocked the door, took out her purse and retrieved a pen and notepad.  She wrote down her address and phone number and handed it to Jerrod.

“It’s a date.”

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