After tedious searching, I find my reserved parking spot, only to find out that someone else had already made themselves comfortable. I find a supplemental parking space on the opposite side of the world, and quickly rush to class. To my misfortune, I am greeted by the dry-erase board in the physics classroom that, to my dismay, reads, "TEST." Upon placing my nonsense--filled test in the small, black tray to soon be graded, I feel a sense of relief, though it does not last long.
As I move on to Calculus, my heel catches the side of the step, and down I go, with only the floor to catch me. I laugh about it with my friends, and try my hardest not to show that my inner self is being bombarded with constant worry. I continuously add on to my "To Do List" which might as well be called my "List of Preventions to Leisure Activity." The final bell rings, and with keys in hand, I follow the crowd to the parking lot. I open my scorching car, set it in reverse, but suddenly, find myself in a completely different place.
I am being pushed by several other tourists, all traveling on their knees. I am also kneeling, but unable to recognize where I am. I look up to find the ceiling made of the most beautiful ornamentation made of what my eyes recognize to be gold. It is as if the sides of the building curve gently until they reach the center which is even richer in elaborate embellishment. The walls are draped with beautiful cloth that seems so red, as if it was made from pure roses. Along the walls I also notice the fourteen stations that reside in a Roman Catholic Church. I look down in desperation trying to recognize where I am at, but find only my knees touching the coarse wood floors. However, I feel the security that a young child receives from a blanket.
