A young woman walked past me. She put on some earphones and started to jog off. Her calves were so perfectly formed. I watched as she took step after step, then jogged out of sight. I quickly turned back around and grabbed my camera in search of some of the native wildlife to take photographs of. My mind was not however inclined to join me. It still had visions of the lovely young woman with the seemingly perfect calves. My mind drifted off to thoughts of sweaty feet and sneakers. Socks getting soaked with delicious sweat. I soon found myself drooling over feet that I had not even had the pleasure of seeing. I felt a bit foolish.Again I tried to return to takings pics, when all of the sudden I heard the pitter patter of jogging feet approaching. With my camera still stuck to my right eye, I spun around quickly. Snapping pic after pic after pic as the lovely calves ran by me for the second time. Happy with myself I smiled like a cat that had just caught a canary. I turned around where. “Were you speeding?” my wife asked; her question, in and of itself, wasn’t the issue. No, the way she asked hurt me. The condemnation in her voice stung. My wife can humiliate me with no effort. She draws enjoyment from my pain. This is a niggling thing, which drives me insane.“A little,” I answered as I pulled onto the shoulder of the road. “Three miles an hour, no cop gives you a ticket for 58 in a 55 zone, does he?”“Maybe this one,” she said with smugness in her voice, reminding me, without saying I told you so, she had warned me about my speed.The spotlight from the patrol car shown inside of ours, bathing us in bright rays. The glare from my review blinded me. I glanced at the outside mirror. He walked toward us, his right hand resting on the butt of his revolver, the other clutched the sheathed handle of a nightstick. Standing at least 6 feet 6 tall, with impossibly broad shoulders, massive ape-ish arms, and a thin waist, the man appeared monster-ish.“You better keep your cool,.
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