Wednesday, September 25, 2019


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.

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