A snippet from a writing project in progress:

Halfway to the diner, I pass a girl about my age on her morning run.  I watch her approach: bronzed skin glistening, white iPod cord swinging in sync with her long-legged stride.  Her ribs are covered in finely-chiseled abs, as revealed by her pristine sports bra (where does the sweat go, I wonder?)

I stumble back to a speed-walk when she is close enough that I can see the glitter of her lip gloss.  She does not break pace as she brushes by me, and the faint hint of her baby powder deodorant tickles my nose.

Wow.  “Oh, go eat a cheeseburger,” I mutter.

Image: Daquella manera | Flickr