One is a poem.
One is a 100 word story.
I think you can work out which is which.
Sunday. Click. Monday
The overriding sense that
A change is needed.
“How was it?”
“Yeah, not too bad. Better than expected. I got up to Rhodes.”
“Nice work! I thought you were taking it easy?”
“I was, but I wanted to get a last hill in my legs before the race next week. I gunned it on the way down. Managed a three-forty.”
“Yep. Only a minute slower downhill than a top runner manages per kilometre on the flat for forty-two in a row.”
“Yeah but they weigh forty kilograms.”
“True. Guess I’m still faster than a dog walker that finds a body in a crap novel.”