Dodging dog

Seeing red in the grey sky

Mandai, 33 km. After the rain stops, I start. Up the slopes where I ran weeks ago, to where the black dog lurks. My feet on my pedals, my heart in my mouth, I charge down the road, eyes peeled for black death lunging at me. It is neither seen nor heard.

The evening sky brightens with a flash. Lighting. I cycle up the highest point of a hill, as lighting flashes in the distance while dark clouds hang over my head. I survey the scene below me, then hurtle down, past black dog's turf. Well, I hope you're gone for good.

I headed out when the rain stopped, but feathery drops brush my face now. The road is wet on the return leg. So it rained while I was away. Great. I'm coming down with a cold, so please don't drench me. I'm not in the mood for it.