I scribbled this one a while back. It still needs work. The tone is inconsistent, the descriptions are a little too convoluted and overworked, there isn’t a strong enough sense of place, the transitions are inelegant, and it’s just not nearly as tight as I’d like it to be. I got too consumed with the flow of some of the lines, how they sound in my head, which make the ones that miss stand out even more as discordant. But I can work on it. There’s an idea here that I like.
He was one of the ones who woke before the sun returned. As he walked to his car, he thought he heard — were those waves?
He looked down to where the road ended into the dark expanse where the light left the sky. The whoosh was too irregular to be anything but waves.
As he looked down the road, he saw a runner. Not unusual for this time of day, especially here where every weekend was a 5k. But this runner stood out for the hobbled gait.
He got in his car and, while it warmed, wrote a text to his still sleeping girlfriend about the waves. After he put down his phone, he looked up to drive off and saw the runner pass on the sidewalk to his left.
He u-turned the car to turn left on the road behind him but remembered the runner and slowed in case he would cross. But he turned instead.
But there was another runner on the opposite corner who did not turn and did not stop but crossed into the street as though unaware of the car that, had it not stopped, would have run over this runner.
How lucky for this runner, he thought, that there were the waves, that there was the other runner, that he did not hit this runner. He wondered whether this runner knew too.