Staircases

Kelly signed up online

for one of those charity fundraisers

where you run up and down

the stairs of a skyscraper.

This particular skyscraper

had 94 stories.

Kelly was not what you’d call athletic.

She’d stop on the second-floor landing

of her apartment building,

coughing and panting.

God, I need a cigarette,

she’d think when she opened her front door.

She registered for this stair run

while drunk

after sending several very embarrassing

and unwelcome texts

to her ex-boyfriend.

When she awoke in the morning,

she saw what she had done.

What on earth?

she asked herself.

The registration fee had not been cheap,

and it was unrefundable.

Well, maybe?

She had three months to train.

I’ll start tomorrow, she decided.

First thing tomorrow.