Photo credit to Dawn Miller

Sammy was in the zone. Her footfalls were the only thing she was focused on. One stepย after another, in tune with her breathing, created a zen-like state. She had started her morning run off strong, well on her way to breaking her eight minute mile.

Her GPS chimed the distance. Six miles down, one to go.

She noticed something in the path ahead, something oddly out of place. A pair of boots was lined up soldier straight in the middle of the path. She didn’t want to stop, but she did, catching her breath as she paused her watch.

On guard, she looked around. Everything was silent. Too silent. No cars on the road above. No birds. Where were the birds? Her neck prickled.

Suddenly, Sammy felt a cold hand on her shoulder followed by a hand over her mouth.

Moments later, a figure quietly replaced the boots with Sammy’s running shoes.

This is my first visit to this site. Having fun stretching my writing muscles with these competitions. Thanks for the challenge!

Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers 8/25-8/31