Even though I’m leaving the house in the wee hours, I’m still trying to get my run in. I?m still trying to cheat the 24 hour clock by getting up at 4am. Still, there’s something just not right with running at 5am.
At 5am, I run in the darkness and the cold. The Wantage roads are empty at this time. Occasionally I’ll think back to the books I’ve read back in high school about alien abductions. Aliens always strike in the middle of the night when no one is watching. Being the only one on the streets at this time, I would be easy pickings. I wouldn’t know anything about my abduction until I woke up in a field two hours later (late for work) with a feeling of missing time and a nagging suspicion that my anus was probed.
But eventually I will see someone walking into town. Usually, it’s an old man in a flat cap walking a greyhound to the newsagent. There are actually three of these guys. I wonder if they know each other.
