Metafive

She ran swift with particular steps being careful as to not splatter mud onto her fresh whites. The cold November rain acted as a sheet, suffocating her lungs every time she inhaled. "Breathe deeper," the young woman told herself each time the faucet in the sky would open up. She had wished that which ever God controlled such things would cut her some slack and turn the hot water on for a few minutes, that way she could relax and wash away the chill. Little did she know the Plumbing God was away on vacation and the hot water heater was broken. All she could do was run, swiftly. Without messing up her shoes cause they were her last pair of whites and they kind of go good with a lot of outfits. So she ran. For three weeks. Just as the icy sheet began to form a noose around the young woman's neck that began spiraling up around her face, she was able to see a sliver of light coming from a new house off the side of the road. Overjoyed to find cover, the young woman approached the home with caution, nervous as to what might be inside. Pushing open the door, the young woman was greeted with everything familiar, starting with two tall Starbucks beverages sitting on the coffee table. One Chai Tea Latte and one seasonal Peppermint Mocha. The tiny quirks and accents of the open room seemed to set it apart from any other house she'd ever been in before. A tiny replica of a Rolls-Royce sat on a shelf next to a ripped first edition of On the Road. Although nobody else appeared to be in the house, the young woman felt like someone was sharing the space with her. She was comfortable.

Still shivering from the heavy rain, the young woman walked over to the ready fireplace, lit a match and let the chill fade away. As the orange glow lit up the entire downstairs, the young woman stripped out of her layers and settled down on the fringed rug that welcomed the heat. Stretched out on the plush carpet, she let her fingers run through the tassels at the edge until both her hands and the fringe became tangled. Holding hands with the rug, she felt sheltered.

At five in the morning, the young woman woke from her temporary slumber, fingers still knotted in the hands of the carpet. She followed the obvious luminescence from the window to the back porch. The hard rain had disappeared hours before taking the burden with it. All the young woman saw when she stepped into the air was her breath fogging up her vision and a dizzy moon. With the same hand that held onto the carpet so tight, the young woman kissed the giddy night. All was right.