Puss In Heels

The lunch crowd rushed along the sidewalk, flowing around Milly as if she were a pebble in a coursing river.  She clung to her purse, fixing her chestnut brown hair every time a pedestrian jostled her.  The two chopsticks holding her hair up felt loose but she had no time to fix them; she just prayed they wouldn’t come out.  They were her only nice pair, despite the chips along their length.

 

She moved with a purpose, keeping her distance from everyone as they made their way to their favorite cafes.  Her stomach growled but she pressed her balled hand against her cream-colored blouse.