Moment | Liz Pascoe

Had I been blessed with graceful legs, I would not have been so focused on the slippery sidewalk as I a made my way across campus. I was headed for an audition and had worn high heeled shoes to look presentable, and prevent my nervous knees from knocking. These shoes had minimal tread and so shuffling across the icy terrain seemed a safer option than actually walking to the theatre. My eyes were fixed to the ground scanning for any hazardous glistening. The silence of the winter night was deafening and all I cared to listen to was the rough skid of heel on ice. As I skidded to a halt at the crosswalk I looked up from my frozen glare to the far end of the street. For a moment everything stopped. At the crest of the street's hill, red and blue lights wailed and splattered onto a couple cars wedged into the gutter. Ice and broken glass created a shimmering silhouette for half a dozen people surrounding the cars. Through the clear darkness I could recognize that the only thing to have sustained injury in this accident had been the cars. Jack Frost had been the culprit of this fender-bender. Before continuing to the theatre I decided to respect the incident and change my shoes.