I:  Fat Black Cat

     4:45 am.  Street lamps and daybreak's dim colorless glow were my only sources of light for the first three miles.  Jogging through the neighborhood, my limited vision then revealed a fat black cat crossing my path, but barely a second after I spat he went and crossed again.  I spat again.  Superstition never played a big part in my daily runs, but that morning I felt a certain duty to spit.  I then drank some water out of my camelback.  Who would have thought…