As each heel hits the sidewalk, the sound reverberates up through my bones, beating the drums of my ears from the inside. The coffee shop I was at before had its front doors open. Too cold to work. The seat was uncomfortable anyway. I’m walking to another coffee shop down the street. One, two, one, two. I count my steps. Heels hitting. I have my head down. My hands are shoved deep into my coat pockets. It’s raining. Occasionally a heavy drop drips from a storefront overhang and lands on my head. I try to avoid this by walking closer to the curb. It’s cold. I tuck my chin to my chest and shrug my shoulders. It’s dark. The sky is fog in all directions. The only thing to do is to go faster. I hope the next coffee shop will have its front doors shut.