I went for a run today. It was extremely cold outside and the air felt like ice in my lungs. As I finished I took a short walk up the street to cool down, which I did rather quickly due to the snow and ice and cold and wintery death. I realized that whenever I walk alone, my eyes tend to drift down toward the ground and remain there almost constantly. I’m not sure if that is just because I like looking at the ground since that is often the location of bugs and falen leaves or if it has something to do with confidence. Either way, I happened to be looking down and I noticed footprints buried in the snow with layers of ice insulating them. I strayed from the dry path and began following the footprints, carefully filling every indent with my size 9.5 running shoes. Someone had walked that path not that long before I came along and the only thing he or she left was these foot shaped holes. I began to picture this person in my mind, first a boy and then a girl, my imagination flickering between as many possible foot owners as it could hold. My foot fit into those prints like they were my own and as I hopped out of them and headed home I looked back and wondered if anyone would come along and step into my footsteps and think about who I am.
