The Strategy

By the time the train reached her stop, she had developed a strategy.

It was not a particularly good strategy. But it had to suffice.

It consisted mainly of walking quickly, keeping her shirt pulled down, and looking as though everything was completely normal.

Outside the station, she checked the time.

Seven minutes. Her office building was only two blocks away. She would make it just in time.

“Perfect,” she muttered.

Then she looked at herself in the dark reflection of a shop window.

“Not perfect.”

However, there was no time to fix it.

She hurried through the revolving doors, past the receptionist, toward the elevator.

The receptionist looked up briefly.

“Good morning, miss.”

Then down.

Then back up with wide eyes.

The young woman smiled politely.

“Good morning. It's a beautiful day, isn't it?”

Neither of them mentioned the lack of pants.

She hurried to the elevator.

When the doors closed she exhaled deeply und wiped her brow.

“Well, that could have gone worse.”

The elevator began to move.