Last Time Jogging

A man in an expensive looking orange jogging suit paused from his morning ritual to sit on a bench and have a drink. This was his escape, his place of solitude. On the blacktop in the cool of the morning he didn’t hear the jabber and complaining of the Employee. The Corporation wasn’t breathing down his neck about the impossible things he had to accomplish. And here the Family would leave him be, no questions of “when will you be home tonight?” and “why don’t we ever see you any more?” There on the empty road he was alone with his thoughts and contemplated this while he turned the plastic thermos in his hand. A nostalgic smile crossed his lips as he looked at the different images of Superman battling evil around his thermos. He swished the apple juice around before removing the lid for a drink. “Not everyone has to know that.” He carried that thermos to remind himself to remember his youth and those innocent good times. “Hey, I’m talking to you, the little punk with the bad handwriting announcing to anyone that I have a children’s thermos with apple juice in it.” He began to feel the old familiar urge to rant come on. “You’re darn tootin’! Hey, don’t edit me. I’ve worked long and hard to become as wealthy and successful as I am today. Bla bla blada bla bla bla! Stop that! I didn’t say that. Look, I don’t need some juvenile college boy spilling my dirty secrets to the world.” Dirty secrets? I haven’t gotten to any dirty secrets yet. “Listen, boy. I can play this game, too. You’ve invited me, nay, forced me in your head.” And? “And I know for example about the time you and that girl in the park-“ Just then a college softball team jogged by and he lost his train of thought. “You can’t distract me. Your little classmates will hear every juicy . . . heavy breathing . . . blond bobbing . . . hey, don’t write that either! If my wife ever read this-“ Or mistress. The last jogger slowed and blew him a kiss. “That’s not fair! I’ll sue you for slander after all this!” Suddenly, a hand struck up from the earth, in the middle of the dirt path. Then another. They hoisted out the decayed corpse of the exec’s long dead father. “Give us a kiss, son,” it said. As the man ran away in surprised fright, the corpse said, “Your readers won’t like this ridiculous abrupt ending.” Well I need something for class. “Yes, and that other one wasn’t very good, but I bet you’ll be eager to read both.” Shut up, you’re dead.