I sit on the bus, face emotionless after being brushed by fat girls’s thighs and glasses repositioned by somebody’s backpack. I’m just glad I have a seat.
The university starts to fill the windshield and work gets closer although to be honest, it’s the furthest thing from my mind.
I get off the shuttle and start walking towards the building that may or may not be my office in a few days. At this point, it just doesn’t matter. I’ll be reassigned no matter what I do.
At step eighty-seven, I push against the ankle brace a little too hard, and there’s an uncomfortable tightness underneath my skin. I slow down a bit. Last thing I want is to be back in the immobilizer.
Overall, it’s good to be walking again, and that’s the important thing.