five minutes of freedom

Sarah rushed into the building, hoping to get the book she needed before the librarian went to lunch.

“Sorry, we’re closed.”

Her watch read, “11:55 a.m.”

Sarah stared open-mouthed at the sign, feeling the heat rush to her head. It was as if that single instance of disappointment catapulted her right into the dark, heavy cloud of despair that she’d been hell bent on evading.

Her dissertation was falling apart.

She just got a memo for missing all her deadlines at work.

The baby still had the flu.

And Paul…

She had no idea where he’d been for the last three days.

Sarah had to shut her eyes, willing to think away the nausea building inside her. Failing at it, she just blinked back her tears, shook her head lightly, and started walking aimlessly out into the front yard.

She sat at the first empty bench and watched the people around her — mostly undergraduate students, teenagers laughing and eating and discussing their lessons.

Oh, to be in their shoes again!

The sudden burst of breeze had Sarah snapping her head up in attention. It was a nice surprise; the air had been still all morning. She involuntarily closed her eyes, this time in pleasure as she took a deep breath and felt the coolness on her face and arms.

Sarah leaned back, enjoying her five minutes of freedom as the breeze kept blowing and as she allowed it to be the only thing filling her mind.


Writing prompt, “five minutes of freedom,” courtesy of Inspiration Monday πŸ™‚


5 thoughts on “five minutes of freedom

  1. I get that feeling sometimes too. You grab it, no matter how fleeting. Because it helps to hold you up when the going gets tough again. πŸ™‚ Congrats on such a great post!

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