Fresh cool air rushes in as I yank open the window. After the sticky heat of yesterday it’s a great relief. The Sun blazes in the East like a ball of fire in the treetops.

Here I sit in front of my keyboard. I begin to press keys and neurons fire and then it begins.

I see the jogger making his rounds. He is quite slim and wearing white socks pulled up as far as they will go. I take this as an indication of his having attained at least middle age with its corresponding loss of fashion sense. He looks fit and ready for anything.

Here he comes again into view. What’s that? I see a shimmer in the air in his path. I must be seeing what the eye doctor called ‘floaters’. No, it’s still there. Something is on the path. I don’t know where it came from but now it is becoming clearer.

I see a swirling cloud of gold and it is approaching the jogger. Apparently he can’t see it and I wonder if I should call out. Too late.