This post is written in response  to the 100 Word Challenge.

The prompt this week is:…but my poor old feet…

It was a cool Sunday morning with no traffic. I was eight  miles into my ten mile run. My years of training were starting to pay dividends with faster times. Two days before the marathon.

I never saw the vehicle  hit me. Blam! I found myself  on the payment. I could see my old running shoes  beside me. A striking white bone protruded from my arm.

The paramedics arrived in a short time.

The  lady in Blue looked at me with sorrow  in her eyes. “Are you an organ donor Sir?”

“You can take anything but my poor old feet.”