A swishy-crinkle was underfoot. One of Claire's sneakers made a sound as she raced along the crowded sidewalk. She dodged tourists with baby strollers until she came up on Luke's. Claire turned into the cordoned off area in front of the restaurant and took a seat at a recently vacated table. Relieved to find her soles intact, Claire pulled a square piece of notepad paper off the bottom of her right shoe. Both sides were sticky, and Claire dipped her fingers in a full glass of water left by some under-hydrated diner. Neatly printed letters, only slightly smudged, filled the gummy note. Claire settled back and read softly out loud:
Why so dissatisfied? If I were to let go of your hand, would you still grasp at an ill-defined plan? From where I stand, the chase you've given to The More Of… The Better Than… has made you focus on a life of fear. Go ahead. Let the moment collapse in on itself. It's how joy is released. The gift of the unknown is what your heart desires.
Claire shook her head, as though a fly landed on her nose, and read the note again. She didn't know what it meant, but it sure as hell hit a nerve. Claire had been stuck in a loop of wanting/not wanting to ditch her job at the DMV. She used to be a People Person before she landed that gig. But now she was more than willing to renounce her affiliation with the human race. Claire didn't believe in luck, good or bad, but she couldn't shake the feeling the tenacious slip of paper was a sign. She picked up the note with a napkin (it was untouched, just like the water), folded the edges to form a little pouch, and slipped it in her backpack. As she headed into traffic, Claire's feet, along with the rest of her body, felt lighter as she made her way through the city.
Semi-Daily Scribbles 
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