As she jogged along the path flanked by pine trees, dappled with sunlight, Hassana wondered if she would see the cyclist again today. So far, they had passed each other every day this week. For months, she had been jogging here but this week was the first time she had ever seen him although there was something familiar about him. He looked like he was in his mid-thirties and possibly Japanese but she couldn’t be sure. And he was extremely good-looking. She always had a thing for Asian men. She promised herself that if she saw him today, she would smile and say hi.
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