Late

"Seven forty-three. Thirteen minutes late. As she entered the building she could feel the beads of sweat gathering on the edges of face, making their way down her cheeks. Even though it was winter, and near freezing, the girl had built up a sweat power-walking from her apartment.

She was always late.

No matter how close she was to her destination, she almost never arrived on time. It ran in her family, she would tell people in chit-chat. "My mom is always late. So is my aunt. And my grandma was too. I'm hoping to break the cycle," she'd say to acquaintances with a weak, forced laugh.

She didn't like being late. That was true. In fact, she hated it. Walking into a room full of people... people settled into their seats. Responsible people. People capable of getting to where they needed to be on time. She wasn't one of those people. Deep down, she knew she'd never be. Despite her strongest efforts to "break the cycle" she knew she wouldn't change.

There were two kinds of people... the on-time ones and the late ones. "