Page 3 - Interior_SPRING SUMMER FALLING_2021

SPRING SUMME R FALLING | 3

Chapter 1

Sanya
I
am about to die. I think as I traipse up the last few steps. Once my black Tieks
ballet flats hit the dingy-gray, epoxy-covered landing of the fifth floor, I
silently give all the glory to God. I rest my forehead against the wall as I take
several gulping breaths of stale oxygen. I’m not a fan of the mysterious stench
lingering in the stairwell, but it is better than passing out. My feet hurt; my thighs
are sore; and my chest and throat burn. My breathing returns to normal, and my
heart slows from a gallop to a steady trot. I am grateful none of my co-workers are
around to see me panting like a dog trying to chase a Ferrari on a sweltering summer
day. Dry heat. No, I am one of the only people that chooses to arrive early. The rest

of the office starts between 8:30-9:00 AM to offset some of the crazy work traffic.
The elevator being broken is not working for me, and it is royally messing up
my Tuesday morning. I am instantly grateful that I’ve brought leftovers for lunch
because I am officially in for the day. There is no way in hell I am going up five
flights of stairs twice in one day. Hell, no. I shudder at the thought. My near-death
experience is a sobering reminder that I need to get my life together pronto. I am
ridiculously out of shape. Here it is 7:30 in the morning, and I am suddenly in need
of a nap. That hike up the stairs took a lot out of me, and while I am not the one to
use negative female epitaphs often, I must say a bitch is tired.
Footsteps below warn me that I will not be alone much longer. I touch my
forehead and check my boobs to ensure I am not sweating too much. I check my
reflection in the glass of the fire extinguisher case just as the footsteps start to land
on the steps directly below me. Hard, flat, and male. I try to imagine who it is until