Prompt 136 from community all_unwritten


When she was little, she used to love being out in the park the day after it snowed. Sometimes, when she's lucky, there would be some footprints. She would grin and walk around, looking for the right footprint. The footprint that stands out for her. When she finds one, she'll follow the footprint as best as she can, imagining what the original owner of the footprint would be. She would see the shape and the size of the track and imagine accordingly. A huge footprint, almost as twice as longer and wider than her comparably big but nevertheless a child's foot, would belong to a Mr. Tall. Another footprint, really pointy in the front with a tiny heel mark in the end, would belong to one of those people she saw on the television. She would assume the identity of the person, changing her voice to a comically lower or higher voice, sometimes using the white snow as a make-believe lipstick. She would follow the tracks, carefully staying within the boundary of the footprint as much as possible, imagining herself to be the original owners of these footprints. After a while, the track would inevitably stop, and she would go back, looking for another identity to steal.

[Commentary: Eh. Not really feeling artistic and inspired, since I'm worn out from today's tests and stuff. Today was a day for 50 multiple choice test for all subjects in foreign language department. Since I take both Korean and Japanese, I arguably took 100 multiple choice test. That doesn't do well with your right brain. No it doesn't.]