She dragged herself from it, then walked to her place and made her way into the lobby. By the end of any day, her feet were trashed from standing for so many hours straight, so she normally took the elevator, but it was inevitable that fate continued working against her on a day as horrible as this. A large sign was taped to the metal doors: Out of Order. Stormy trudged up the stairs with her giant purse in tow. As she was about to reach her floor, she began digging for her keys. Good coordination skills weren’t one of Stormy’s strong points—add a tired mind, and in true fashion, the strap slipped from her shoulder. Half the contents of her purse spilled out. The sound of keys, makeup, and coins could be heard all the way to the bottom of the stairwell. Stormy dropped to her knees and began to sob. She’d had enough, and there was nothing that was going to hold it back. When she heard a door open, and then someone moving down the stairs toward her, she tried pulling herself together, but she was just too tired.
