A Short Short Storyby Susan Moldaw
HIS MIND RACING with thoughts of the new day, Arnold glanced at his wife, asleep in her pink cotton nightgown trimmed with white bows, her face creased from the pillow. He gave a cheerful grin; she could sleep through anything. He went into his dressing area and put on new sweats and running shoes. He accidentally slammed the door as he left the bedroom, causing his wife to shudder and turn. She would be asleep when he ate breakfast and left for work.
He went upstairs to their home gym. It was a converted attic space with a view of the bay, equipped with a StairMaster, a treadmill, free weights, and a steel exercise machine with stations for two. Arnold got on the treadmill, setting the elevation and speed and then beginning to run, his feet pounding the track. The sky was dark, he left the room unlit. From the outside all that could be seen was the shadowy figure of a man running in place.