Short Story #1a Ole Fishing Pond
Megan found her #plogging interrupted by a a pair of gloves. She
had been collecting random pieces of garbage as she walked the dog.
Gnarled and dirty plastic and fast food packaging mainly. An online
article spammed her social media news feed earlier that day, boasting
the hottest trend of 2018 from Sweden. Quoting personal trainer,
Charles F. Porter, “There are two great things about this type of
exercise. You get the added benefit of carrying a few extra pounds
and you’re bending over and doing squats, which is a move that’s
fundamental to your everyday life. You’re getting a full body
workout.” Megan frowned, staring at the ground. She didn't feel
like it was upping the intensity of her morning walk to the park and
a full body workout was definitely absent, but it did satisfy an urge
to be a better person and clean up the garbage around her
neighborhood. She would later smile and feel like she accomplished
something, maybe even do it again. But currently, she was staring at
the ground at the matching pair of gloves.
This pair was of the rubber variety. Maybe you would use them in the garden, they looked waterproof. Maybe you'd wear them while cleaning to avoid contact with chemicals. She surveyed the access road that lead to the Ole Fishing Pond. There were no other misplaced objects. These gloves didn't look like garbage. If it had been only 1, she wouldn't have even paused. Maybe if they had been farther apart, a believable trajectory of items lost from a bag in motion. This pair was placed one on top of the other on the side of the road. Not very dirty. Not very lost. You think its crime evidence? She asked herself. The gloves didn't answer. She went to pick them up, but then felt guilty. What if their owner was coming back for them? What if the police were looking for them? Speculated crimes ran rampant in her imagination. Her own chance involvement in cleaning up the roadside and impeding an investigation made her sweat more then her current “exercising.”
“Well I can't call the cops on you.” she said to the gloves. The gloves didn't respond but still looked suspicious. She eventually walked on. Can't wait all day waiting for the universe to show me the answer to the mystery of the gloves.
How Sweden’s full body workout is taking over
This pair was of the rubber variety. Maybe you would use them in the garden, they looked waterproof. Maybe you'd wear them while cleaning to avoid contact with chemicals. She surveyed the access road that lead to the Ole Fishing Pond. There were no other misplaced objects. These gloves didn't look like garbage. If it had been only 1, she wouldn't have even paused. Maybe if they had been farther apart, a believable trajectory of items lost from a bag in motion. This pair was placed one on top of the other on the side of the road. Not very dirty. Not very lost. You think its crime evidence? She asked herself. The gloves didn't answer. She went to pick them up, but then felt guilty. What if their owner was coming back for them? What if the police were looking for them? Speculated crimes ran rampant in her imagination. Her own chance involvement in cleaning up the roadside and impeding an investigation made her sweat more then her current “exercising.”
“Well I can't call the cops on you.” she said to the gloves. The gloves didn't respond but still looked suspicious. She eventually walked on. Can't wait all day waiting for the universe to show me the answer to the mystery of the gloves.
How Sweden’s full body workout is taking over
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