The wind rushed into her jacket like a stream of air. Her sneakers pounded the old brick road, quickly increasing in their momentum. But these sneakers weren’t her best ones, considering she didn’t really have the time to scan her selection and choose.

She grabbed and went.

And she was lucky at that. That she managed to get any shoes on her feet at all. With every step, a shockwave of pain vibrated from the crusty, worn-to-the-heel sneakers. With every step, she was regretting.

Regretting, regretting, regretting.

Regretting that she never threw these damn shoes away before. Regretting that her mother bought a dog. Regretting that she never bothered to feed it. Regretting that she never brushed its long, pointy teeth.

Because then, it wouldn’t have smelt like she was running away from a vicious, barking sewer. Because then, maybe she would be able to catch her breath without feeling the compulsion to puke every time she did.

But again, she was regretting everything.