Footprints

She walks across the field, feeling the mud squelch beneath her boots, and the rain pattering down above them. The moisture seeps in from both directions, culminating in a wet sock and cold toes. Fortunately, she’s getting close to her destination, so she doesn’t let it bother her. Instead she wraps her hands around the paper cup that she holds in front of her. It has a lid, yet she still unconsciously slouches forward a bit in order to shade it from the rain. The way she holds it would make any passerby think that it holds a warm beverage of some kind, but instead it holds tea that she made over an hour ago and promptly forgot on her desk, in order to ensure it cooled down to a reasonable temperature.

She finally steps off the grass, still lost in her thoughts, but straightening up as she reaches a stretch of path that is protected by an overhang. Her left boot leaves distinctive prints as she continues down the path, while her equally soaked right boot passes without trace. She takes a sip of her drink and pushes her hood back, seeming to finally relax, although she still has not stopped walking. She glances behind her, notes her footprints, and nods.