I entered the third door of St. Wenceslas. It’s the one the younger elementary school kids use. I’d left my boot (I’m done with the cast now) and my crutches inside. I went up the stairs and entered the office-building-like interior. It was connected with other office buildings, and as I ran, it started morphing into a shopping mall. I know. I shouldn’t have been running because it was probably bad after the surgery, but I needed to get that boot and crutches. But then, all my dreams involve running these days.
I found the boot, right where I’d left it, in a corner of the mall. After I got it on, I bumped into Joe Biden, who asked me all about my surgery and recovery. Even though his questions were made with genuine concern, I was slightly irritated because I’d recently had the same conversation with him. Sheesh, I thought. Doesn’t he remember? Anyway, I was nice and respectful in my replies.
I finally found all the crutches. There were a bunch of them hanging in a center-mall kiosk. I considered taking some others when I couldn’t find mine right away. But that would have been stealing. I finally found my own, and everything was okay.
No comments:
Post a Comment