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.”