Ryan finished his morning run and dropped onto one of the benches in the little park bordering the beach at the end of his street. He rubbed his hand over his face, gathering the beads of sweat, and wiped them on his shorts.
I have to start wearing a T-shirt or bringing a towel.
He'd finally remembered to hook a water bottle in the loop on his shorts. Now, as he sat catching his breath, he opened it and drained half of it before stopping. Slowing his breathing, he looked around the little park. It was a beautiful area, with lots of trees and shrubbery, benches for sitting, and places to set up a grill. He was sure people came here on the weekends or even late in the day to picnic. Only by then he was shut up again in his cottage.
He sighed.
Four days.