Samantha pulled off her sweatshirt and tied it around her waist. Keeping up a steady jogging pace along Fisherman’s Walk at six that morning, she scanned other joggers looking out for a face: Lawrence Hackett.
Come on, Lawrence. I know you jog here, show yourself. Samantha thought as she looked out over the water. Glassy. Nice when it’s like this. Soon it’ll be choppy when the city wakes and the water traffic begins. She inhaled the cold morning air. I love these tree-lined promenades; just beautiful. Stopping to stretch and rub her knee, which played up in the colder weather, Samantha heard a voice behind.
Come on, Lawrence. I know you jog here, show yourself.I love these tree-lined promenades; just beautiful. “Are you alright?”
She turned to find Lawrence Hackett jogging on the spot i
