The Second Shelf
Do We Run Away The Run

Nancy rose early for a Saturday morning. It had been a fitful night. She knew a good run would clear her mind. The excitement of a good workout began to build as she dressed to face the autumn air.
The towpath offered the ideal surface to clear her mind. She would do five miles and drive the demons from her soul.
Malcolm was just another man she thought. It really wasn't a very big deal. She would get his attention and within a few weeks she would know if it was really worth it.
She stretched at the chain bridge as she inhaled deeply. This had been a really strange week. She had never had a problem dealing with new partners or associates. She could quite be sure why Malcolm had invaded her thoughts.
The dreams were more than unsettling. "I had an orgasm for God's sake." She thought about finding her hand between her legs that morning. Kashmir's rude awakening had disrupted a really delicious dream.
"The scarves, the submission, 'I love you,' what was that all about." Nancy thought about this infatuating obsession as she jogged off across the sandy brown ribbon.
She wasn't concentrating on her time as she ran along. Suzanne's laughter filled her head. She found herself forcing her thoughts back toward business as she replayed the week. The way he handled himself at the luncheon gave way to an image of his deep brown eyes. She remembered the desire to run her fingers along the pinstripe of his suit as they rode together in the cab.
Nancy jogged harder as the blurred images of faceless runners approached her heading southward. Each plodding step came down hard against the packed sand surface. She inhaled and exhaled without regard to mileage markers spaced along the path. She scowled as she thought of Margaurite's flirtatious signals.
She ran harder trying to shake the images free. This was her weekend. Monday was another day. There was nothing she could do now. Malcolm had a life, and so did she.
The raging Potomac was tame compared to the conflicts raging in her soul. She pushed on hard. She breathed heavier as she felt the ache of exertion flow through her limbs.
She paused at a stretch station, wheezing coughing, bending low. The marker surprised her. She was six miles from where she began.
Nancy wondered why her life was shaken by this man she'd only met a week ago. The perspiration on her brow was caked with dust from the towpath. She blotted at the grit with her headband, as she rested on a bench.
More images flooded her mind as she looked southward once again. Still breathing heavy she rose and started walking. This Malcolm thing was beginning to be a pain.
River Run

Malcolm liked to rise early on his off days. He enjoyed working out in his gym as the sun rose over the Washington monument. Pumping iron always gave him the opportunity to think. He completed his benchwork as small beads of perspiration formed on his chin. He pulled on a warm-up jacket and headed out the door.
Jogging along the towpath had become almost a ritual for him on weekends. The twelve miles offered him a chance to really clear his mind.
The rhythm of his stride slapping hard against the tightly-packed sand was constant as he paced off uncounted miles by the river.
The Gallery party was fun. He now had art designed by an old friend. He'd also spent time with a coworker he wanted to be a new friend. That was the rub for him. The agency job was temporary. Malcolm couldn't see himself as just a lobbyist. But she had made an impression on him. He licked his lips as he thought about watching Nancy move in the cab. He remembered the softness of her wrist as they spoke at the Gallery party.
Malcolm worked hard to offer a business image. He had learned enough about the transportation committee's work to mask his total boredom. The time in D.C would be fun, but it would also offer him cover for his next assignment.
He plodded up the towpath, watching the Potomac narrow as he headed north. The smooth black water picked up speed as he jogged toward Little Falls.
Malcolm let his mind wander, but he was also disturbed by the course it freely took. Each time he focused on the his options, he found himself thinking back to her.
"It's a bad idea," he thought. "She is bright, and lovely, but I don't intend to be here." Malcolm ran faster, as he approached the falls. "I will take the next post that is offered. This is just a cover assignment, I do not have time to get involved."
Malcolm plodded north along the towpath. His feet fell heavily, grinding the gritty sand with each step.
The perspiration rolled down his face. It stained the heather gray cotton of his sweats a darker shade.
His chest heaved as his arms pumped back and forth. The blood rushing through his legs made his calves swell and throb. He felt a fullness in his briefs as his legs powered him further up the path.
His breathing was measured. Inhaling, exhaling, pushing in and forcing each hard breath outward explosively. He let his mind wander back many years to his Marine training. The movements became almost mechanical as instincts became his driving force.
This was the kind of workout he'd grown used to. His body moved northward up the road, as he clenched his fists hard against his wrists.
The images flooding his mind disturbed him. He envisioned her there close to him. He felt his thumbs stroking lightly against his index fingers. The ridges of the tips dragged him deeper into a moving fantasy.
The running became mindless for Malcolm, faceless runners passed him in the opposite direction. The wind rustled through trees stained with their autumn colors. The wetness staining his sweats had spread beneath his waist.
He barely noticed his surroundings as he moved forward fueled by pure adrenalin. He almost passed right by a somewhat familiar face. The fatigued runner heard south had barely noticed him at all.
She ran by and he stopped. A deep breath sucked the power back into his lungs, to fuel his voice.
"Nancy?" The other runner stopped and turned.
Two breathless people faced each other. The raging waters of the Potomac River rushed toward the spillway of the Little Falls Dam. The physical exertion of two lonely runners could not mask the desire shared by their eyes.
From Some Things
Only to Get Closer to Them Running On

Nancy paused as her body displayed the fatigue of a long run. She bent low, placing her hands on her waist as she panted heavily. The run had been longer than she'd planned.
"Hi, this is a small town after all," said Malcolm. He approached her. The sweat glistened on his forehead as he smiled. "Do you run here often?" he said. He dabbed his forehead with a towel that had been wrapped around his neck.
"I normally run about ten miles a couple of days a
week," said Nancy. She let out a long breath, "Today I went a bit further for some reason."
"I do about twelve, but I could do nine today," Malcolm smiled, and placed the towel back around his neck. "That is, if you don't mind me running back with you."
Nancy smiled and turned without saying a word. Malcolm watched her as she jogged southward back toward the Chain Bridge. He felt his body react as his eyes locked on her lower body, moving back down the towpath.
This was not exactly what Nancy had in mind. They jogged along together past trees and shrubbery bursting with autumn color. The blue sky of a Southeastern autumn was broken by an occasional flight of geese or a soaring kestrel. Nancy was more than a bit winded from the unexpected lengthening of the trip. Malcolm adjusted his strides to her pace.
The run had not been conducive to conversation. They both were out of breath as they plodded into the parking lot. Nancy put her left foot on the bumper of an ivory Audi. She balanced as she stretched and flexed her aching calf.
"So, do you have plans for the rest of the weekend?" Malcolm was again patting the perspiration on his face with the towel. he watched her eyes as she shook her head. "Does that mean you have nothing to do Ms. Smith?"
Nancy laughed, "If I'd known you were going to be this formal, I would have let you run on to the dam." Malcolm interrupted, "I did buy some artwork last night." I also said I would invite you to see the pieces ..." She cut him off, "surely, you're not hung already." Nancy realized what she had said just as the final word escaped her lips. She smiled, choking back a laugh.
Malcolm ignored the double entendre, opting instead to press his request for her time. "We could have dinner," he said. "There is this East African place, the Red Sea Restaurant."
There was no hesitation. Nancy said, "I could be ready at eight." Malcolm smiled, "I can pick you up at eight-thirty." There was an awkward silence, before Nancy said "okay."
She opened her car door, and put the key in the ignition. He smiled as he watched her buckle her seatbelt and drive away. Nancy was making mental notes of how she'd spend her afternoon, "nails, shopping, hair," she intended to leave an impression..
Malcolm used his cell phone to confirm his reservations. He called a florist, dictating a short sentiment for the card that would accompany the roses "I want it to say, 'the river was nice,' that?s all," he said, as he ended the call.
The champagne Crown Victoria slid into gear. He drove onto the parkway thinking of his afternoon plans. Notre Dame was playing Michigan State. He'd watch the game, drink a beer, and get some sleep.

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