That Day I Decided to Take a Walk
Malia Paasch

That day I decided to take a walk. The air was blithe and inviting and I had been stuck inside all day. I had long awaited the noon lunch break since around eight this morning and it had finally arrived. I grabbed my pink polka dotted purse and slipped off the uncomfortably high pink stilettos. I then changed into the flip-flops stored in my bottom desk drawer. I am not one for putting myself through pain walking on this rare luscious day. I walked through my cozy almost corner office and into the foyer towards the elevators. The doors opened slowly and revealed a few captives inside waiting to escape. I entered the temporary confinement and smiled sweetly to my cellmates. Have you ever realized how droll elevator music really is? Are they trying to make you bolt from the insipid building faster? The ride was long (a whole three floors) and the only thing that kept me alive was the thought of my soon departure out, out of the inevitable force that holds you from 9 to 5 during the week. As I skipped excitedly out of the revolving doors I immediately reached for my cool, sophisticated shades and placed them strategically on my face. I took a long gaze at each direction, forward,
to the left, to the right, and up. Up unfortunately was not a choice although I would've loved to spread my wings and get the hell out of the city. I would land anywhere that I could gaze in a romantic 19th century poet kind of way and take a simple piece of nature and turn it into a life's work. Left and right seemed to be the best bet, but which, each could mean a better hour adventure. I chose left, I always wished I was a lefty.