Off the Concrete

The bays were locked down tight, and after hours on concrete in heels, I needed a proper perch to decompress. I pulled myself up onto the wide leather armrest of the shop's old swivel chair. Draped over the headrest above was a folded red paisley bandanna. Bracing my feet against the double-stitched leather welt, I worked the cotton square down, creasing it in half once more until it formed a firm, supportive wedge against the chair's back. Leaning back into the stiff fabric, I stretched my legs out along the seam and let the quiet of the night settle in.

1 Nauk