Who?

Who is she?

Always in purple pants with an orange vest, normally with sunglasses, always with a ball cap, running down the street, arms and legs pumping with oil well regularity.

Who is she?

Running in snow, rain and sunshine, up this avenue, down that street, past that alley, running the streets and sidewalks in every part of town.

Who is she?

Always strolling the sidewalks, her hands in gloves, sunglasses hiding her eyes, a floppy knitted green hat on her head, a long grey covering her short body and big, loose, untied boots on her feet, no matter what the weather.

Who is he?

Reading another worn paperback, drinking a cup of coffee, always sitting at the fourth stool at the bar, his back to the room, never speaking with others, staying for two hours and then walking briskly away without looking back.

Who is he?

Walking in with a laptop case hanging off his shoulder, hat on his head, sunglasses on his eyes, typing on his laptop and staring out the window

Who are they?