Worthing Flash

219 Beaumont arrived at the Fitness Centre a broken man, mourning the death of his young wife. He scanned his membership card and went straight into the gym, dressed for cardio in black track suit bottoms, thin, cool t-shirt, running shoes. At least, he wouldn’t have to change in the locker room. He found the sight of fitter, young men, half his age, towelling their well-endowed bodies dry, embarrassing. The gym was heaving with sweaty bodies at that time of the morning. Fanatics, dripping, dropping in, to oxygenate their beefed-up muscles on their way to work. One treadmill, fitted with a tv screen, was free. Beaumont swooped, hung his turquoise hand towel round his neck and selected manual. The belt started to run. He pressed quick start, selected a speed of 4.0, incline of 6.0, and jogged. The tv was tuned in to a lively breakfast debate on healthy eating. Finding it distracting, he switched it off and got into his stride. The shadowy carbon screen matched his sombre mood. A...

Pivotal Moment She cycled up to me as I waited in the shade. Her floppy flowerpot hat gave her an elfin look. Half her face was cast in shadow, half was bright with the flaming sun. A round, happy face: toffee nose, shiny almond eyes, a candy twist in her smile. So sweet! My diminutive woman. A string of beads graced her neck, shining on her nut-brown skin like a white halo. She wore a skimpy black bikini top flecked with navy blue, soft summer shorts and faded canvas shoes. The locals told me she roasted by the sea. A sun child with skin as dark as caramel. Adorable! She sat astride her bicycle, one foot on the pedal, tiptoe on the ground, applied her brake, and watched. There was an old stone fountain in the square with a crude protruding spout which poured water down the worn rock face into a dark pool. Embedded in the edifice was a warning sign. Refraining from drinking, I splashed ice-cold water over my burnt face and chest, intoxicated by the thrill of its refreshment....

219 The gym heaved with sweaty bodies, that time of morning. Fanatics, dripping, dropping in to oxygenate beefed-up muscles en route to work. One treadmill, fitted with a tv screen, was free. He swooped, hung his hand towel round his neck, selected manual. The belt ran. He pressed quickstart, selected speed: 4.0, incline: 6.0. The carbon screen matched his sombre mood. He ran 2.1km, burnt off 329.3 calories. Elspeth appeared onscreen mouthing: Come, my love! The screen grew large, swallowing him. Time elapsed: 32.18 minutes. Distance: 2.11km. Calories burned: 1329.3. Heart rate: 123, 146, 167, 185, 197, 208, 211, 219.