~*~
10 am and she’s so-very-late. Coldness burns with each breath of morning air. The backpack is heavy; straps forcing her shoulders back, cutting through her too-thin-jacket. Legs cramp and her feet scream murder on the cobblestones. The cell phone in her pocket beeps. Her stress levels go up anther notch. She resists the phone, but not for long. Two more steps and it’s in her hand.
“Where are you?”
A misstep, as she tries to answer the message while running. She falls to one knee and one hand. The pain travels like lightning trough her leg. Nasty, nasty bruise tomorrow, but she just doesn’t have the time. A grimace flashes over her face. Her eyes tear, but she’s up in a flash. The first few steps are halting on her stiff leg. Determination proves the greater force and she’s off again.
The traffic on the South Boulevard
