as joggers jogged past

Today was the kind of day where in the midst of having a conversation concerning grudges, a man will look me in the eye and tell me, with sincerity, that I played a part in his standing on his front lawn, wearing nothing but his underwear, at five-thirty on Saturday morning, as joggers jogged past, staring with fascination at a garbage bag caught on a tree limb flickering in the wind.

and the truth is I did.