Victory

She seemed like a year or two older than him. Moving to her left, he came abreast of her. Looking at him from under her broad-brimmed straw hat, she smiled. “Good afternoon,” she said.

Nodding and smiling, he replied, “Good afternoon.” Then, feeling bold, he said, “Race you.”

She laughed. “No, thank you. It’s a pleasant day, and I’ll continue with my stroll. You win.”

“Have a good day, then,” he called over his shoulder, accelerating away. A win is a win.

He’d take it.

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