<div class="floatleft">(http://40.media.tumblr.com/73b31295bc3727bd330adbc585e67ef6/tumblr_mnnmpbJtEG1qhv5sho7_1280.jpg)</div><br/><br/><br/><strong>Name:</strong><strong>Joao Silvas</strong>(https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=265658.msg13115438#msg13115438)<br/><br/><strong>Date:</strong>April 1, 2017<br/><strong>Time:</strong>Early Afternoon<br/><strong>Where:</strong>Pacific Heights, unnamed walking/running trail<br/><strong>Tagging:</strong>Sara McComb<br/><strong>Summary:</strong>Out Running<br/><br/><br/><hr/><hr/><br/>As one of the younger doctors in the practice,<acronym title="California Pacific Emergency Physicians">CPEP</acronym>, Joao was typically given the night shifts; not that he really seemed to mind.  There was a substantial shift differential, so he ended up being paid pretty well for those hours, but more importantly, it allowed him to spend beautiful afternoons like this one outside.  Glancing down at his watch as he let himself rest from his run, he figured he'd been up and moving for about seventeen hours; he was good for at least another ten so he could try and reset his internal clock for the morning shift on<acronym title="April 3">Monday</acronym>.  Some might balk at spending over a day awake but most of them hadn't been residents and interns working in emergency departments.  He remembered pulling two thirty-six hour shifts with only twelve hours of sleep between them.  Not that he would ever dare to try that again; he wasn't that young anymore.  Wiping some of the sweat from his brow, he took a deep breath and started his jog again, letting himself get caught in his thoughts.<br/><br/>His random thoughts were his little way of telling how stressed or comfortable he was.  Right now, his thoughts were in English, short ramblings about the rest of the day's plans, what chores needed to get done and taking a stroll through the building to see who else had moved in.  Joao had moved in shortly after construction had finished, perhaps three months now, and had been astonished at how many people came from all walks of life.  It was the reason he loved most cities - nowhere else could so many different people come together and give an area a life of its own.  San Francisco lived and breathed like anyone, its heartbeat different enough for a visitor to quickly understand this wasn't LA or Vancouver or, god forbid, Oklahoma City.  A slight turn of his head to the left, as he was running east, and he could almost make out Alcatraz in the bay.  Joao had always loved the water, for as long as he could remember.<br/><br/>He grew up in Lisbon, a place that seemed a world and a life away, but he remembered his folks taking him down to the Rio Tejo, which might as well have been a bay as it spilled out to the Atlantic near Lisbon.  He knew that's why he loved Vancouver and now San Francisco - it just felt like that home.  But as he pushed himself, pressing himself to run harder and faster as he climbed a hill, breaking into a sprint, his thoughts shift back into his native tongue, into Portuguese, as he counted his steps.<em>Vinte e oito, vinte e nove,</em>he thought silently, finishing the spring with a single word, "Trinta..."  Perching his hands above his head, he let himself slowly turn and take in the full sights of the city and bay beyond, the noises of the city and the others on the trail more than enough to make sure he felt at home.  Even if he did always feel a bit alone...