A Slow Run

It was odd to find herself in this situation; wearing a crazy lime green skirt over black leggings with sports socks and tennis shoes. Elle was wearing this outlandish costume five blocks from her house, and what was worse… her spastic gestures looked like she was running. Elle hated to run! It was not a passive dislike, but rather a fierce opposition. Sometimes after just contemplating a run, a 20 minute aerobic work-out would have been achieved. She must have used some huge trickery to get herself in this predicament. Elle was huffing and puffing, but the only course was to continue with her run because the quicker she took this skirt inside, the better!!!

Elle kept her eyes on the sidewalk cracks, not wanting to meet anyone. She had made it to the corner, when she saw a man walking his dog across the street. The man and his dog were crossing over to her side, but Elle continued her focus on getting home. “One more step,” she kept chanting to herself, and knew that even though her legs felt like lumbering elephants, they were making progress. Perhaps it was time to begin some type of running regiment – there had been a lot of chocolate consumption lately. It was all coming back to her now, the beginning of what had prompted this exercize adventure.

She heard the dog jingle behind her like a bicycle bell wanting to pass. Elle obligingly moved over to the side, but instead of a passing flurry, the dog just walked around her. The guy followed calmly, also in a walk, and gave Elle a long glance probably wondering who had put her running in slow motion. It was embarrassing for everyone involved. There she was, running her heart out, being out-strolled by a dog walker. Even the dog looked awkward and gave a few prancing steps as if to say, “Don’t worry, we aren’t really walking that slowly, in fact some people might consider this a jog.” It would have been more encouraging if he had not seemed to add as an afterthought, “Of course, those people are statues and such.”

Elle's one day running career was over! The running skirt has been returned to Goodwill, and a pact has been made with her shoes... "For Tennis Only!"

Umbrella Story (Part 1)

The umbrella was Sami’s favorite accessory; she loved taking it for a walk. Sometimes when rain was scarce, the umbrella would look wistfully outside for any sign of a mist. It never complained, however, as it waited patiently in its stand by the door. Sami once got tired of waiting for a downpour and so took the umbrella on a stroll, parasol-style; it was not the same.

As she drove home from work there was just the hint of raindrop splatter on her windshield. Sami dashed inside and stayed only long enough to grab her umbrella for a nice outing. The hint of a shower and turned into a downpour. She walked along the sidewalk to the beat of the falling raindrops. Tonight she was aware of being ensconced in a grey, grim world where it was ok to be sad because the universe was broken. Before the sad volcano deep inside her had time to fully erupt, she caught a glimpse of her yellow umbrella in a puddle reflection. She followed the trail of this dash of color in an otherwise dismal street from puddle to puddle, and before long there was a bounce in its progress matching the spring in her step.

She returned home calmed and refreshed. That was the beauty of her umbrella friend – it took her on walks with permission to be sad but never allowing her to fall victim to complete melancholy. It gave her life a cheerful color of hope.