Twice, I decided I would write a book. Once, I decided it would be called "Ten Minute Fairy Tales and Other Things I've Written in Under an Hour"

This would have been in there. I wrote it in 16 minutes, and figured based on that alone it should probably be included.

She ran down the crowded hallway, shoes slapping the patterned linoleum with the purposeful abandonment of a person with somewhere to be. Strangely, it didn't seem that she was late for any meeting or presentation; her hands were empty, holding only the air forced through her pumping fists. Her stride was reckless, legs flying everywhere in her apparent and fervent desire to get where she was going. The run was not the type executed for leisure or exercise, the click of her high-heeled shoes betrayed her. She wore a long red skirt, with a delicate beaded flower on the side, and a billowing and high-collared white shirt. If she had been standing still she might have been mistaken for a fashion model, but in this moment beauty was the last thing on her mind.

With no time for anything but looking straight ahead, she brought her arm to her eyes to examine the face of her watch. Momentarily distracted by her own hurry, she tripped over a forgotten briefcase and clattered to the floor. In this moment of helpless beauty, no one stopped to help her up, although a few busy business people stopped to stare. She was empty-handed and had scattered no books or papers to the floor, so she picked herself up and continued to run, with renewed purpose, down the hall. She didn't even slow down when she neared the open window at the end. Instead, she picked up speed and jumped into the open air.