The box had been falling on her head for several days now. Ever since it had been delivered, she had moved it from her bed, with excitement, to the floor, with annoyance, and finally to the shelf atop her closet, with resignation. She hadn’t been running for weeks and the running shoes seemed to be mocking her.
She rubbed at the knot she bore on her head from the latest assault and grabbed the single shoe that fallen out.
Moving relatively fast with a new idea, she yanked open the drawer that held other items she hadn’t touched in weeks.
She assembled random pieces on the floor, artfully spreading the shoe, tights, shirt and compression socks, although the tight socks were the last thing she would need in her condition. She was carefully careless in her preparation, ensuring the picture would look like the beginning of an actual run instead of a simulated one.
At the last minute, she added the race bib that was still on her nightstand from the half marathon that had started her demise.
She pulled the lamp from the wall and connected it to an extension cord so she could move it around the circular spread, testing the light. While she snapped, she thought herself creative and indulged a thought about professional photography.
With a couple of clicks, the image was transmitted to the thousands who followed her running hashtag.
As she kicked the shoe back into the closet, she listened to the pings her phone gave as the comments accumulated.
“Way to go, girl!”
“You’re such an inspiration.”
She pushed the extra large bag of potato chips aside and crawled back into bed, pulling the covers over the cast on her wooden-feeling leg. The plaster made her skin itch. It would be months before she deserved the things they said but they didn’t have to know that.
“It’s better if they think I’m still running”, was her last thought as she slipped out of consciousness.
Please note: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.