Pain jarred me out of rhythm, sending sparks through my foot, up my ankle and into my leg. I stopped jogging and dropped to one knee. Looking at my bloody toes conjured up memories of my mother’s words.

“Never run in sandals. You’ll break your toe.”

Sighing, I slumped back on my rump and prodded my aching toe. Bones remained straight, but it throbbed angrily as I bent it, twisted it. Then, wedged beneath the nail, I saw a splinter. Gingerly touching the offending probe, I winced, intending to yank it out in one motion.

The fragment protested my hesitant fingers. I cried with pain. Slowly, I wiggled the piece side to side, until, with a mind of its own, it flew from my loose grasp. Yelling my frustration, I pounded the pavement beside me.

I stood, carefully testing my toes. My digits settled on a steady throb, and taking a shaky breath, I continued my journey, limping to my destination. I needed a much better reward now.

“A large hot fudge Sundae.” Dairy Queen is almost worth a sliver.

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