Putrid, sticky, icky puddle water stained Bridget’s best pumps. The stench easily carried from her feet up to her nostrils. There’s just no way she could go to her big-time job interview like this. Still, time ticked, ticked, ticked quickly away, as if the seconds sped up somehow. Now, she had to get back to her apartment, wash her feet and pick out another professional outfit. After all, it wasn’t worth risking if the bottom of her dress also stunk to high heaven.
With as much haste as Bridget could muster, she ran back block after block, knowing any wasted time could be costly. She had to be fast, but not too hasty. After all, too much exertion would trigger a sweat under the rising