Creative Nonfiction: White Sneakers

By  Claire McFadden

 

 

The green aluminum floor did not shine as much as it dulled the room above it. The young woman shifted in her seat upon a metal folding chair and crossed one stiff leg over the other. 

Decaf coffee with powdered creamer warmed the mug in her hands. The steam wafting up to her face made the rest of the room seem colder. 

The clock on the wall reminded her of high school, which must have been the last time she was in a classroom. Yes, she remembered once she made sure. She dropped out of college two days into welcome week, before classes began.

Clocks like these, with the plain face and god-fathered numbers, were made to slow down the passage of time. How’d Vonnegut put it, a year passed and a minute would go by?

A woman twice her age sat across from her. The woman’s white running sneakers were the only color in the room not blunted by the floor's hue. Brand new, snowy white Onn running sneakers fidgeting below age-spotted ankles and tan capri pants. 

The young women stared at the perfectly white sneakers, and wondered whether secrets were just lies. 

Other people were in the room, and one by one they spoke. Too soon it was the young woman’s turn.

“My name is Leah, and I’m an alcoholic.”

 

 

Claire McFadden is a writer based in Philadelphia. She likes to read, write, and talk to people except while she's trying to read or write. You can read her work in Oddball Magazine, the CU Honors Journal, and on diabetesstrong.com.