The Satellite

As I opened the lecture hall door and walked into the cold morning air I listened intently to the reason why my friend had dressed so nicely. When I see one of my peers dressed up I feel like something is going to go very wrong because of the simple fact that I'm wearing a pair of unwashed jeans.
Apparently it was career day. A day where booth after booth take resume after resume. "Look fresh, they won't want to hire you if you look normal." I thought to myself, laughing under my breath.
To my dismay I had to walk past all of that to turn in some pointless homework I had copied onto a piece of paper the night before. As I walked by the seemingly endless row of booths, the sun blinded me to keep me from seeing anyone who belonged there.
Every booth had the same kind of person sweating and standing under them; their ties performing tracheotomies as they stood there taking and giving papers with a toothy grin on their face, each one of them concerned with the simple default pleasures in modern life: money, children, status. I stared at the cobble stones moving under my feet as I walked quickly to avoid seeing everyone around me succeeding. My brow sweating and shirt sticking to my back, I finally arrived to the drop box.
I happened to arrive at the same time a quiet woman did. I intentionally took my time taking my homework out to see what slot she would slide her papers into. Coincidentally she held the homework for the very same class I had walked across the campus for. Once she had finished turning her papers in, we left, I behind her. We walked through the career fair like there wasn't one to begin with.
What she looked like as she walked through the breezes resembled an object being pushed through empty space, even gravity failed to tame her. Her skirt glided around her waist like a halo, each blush of wind slightly lifting each bend and curl, eluding to the subtle curvature in her tanned legs. The universe seemed to slow down as I watched her. We reached the main road and she turned her head to make sure a bike wasn't about to ruin my moment with her. As she turned, her hair swam to the front of her face forcing her to flutter her eyes. While the world stood still she began walking again. Her sandals, the birds, the suited androids; they all remained silent as she moved. 

I didn't want to believe that someday, a girl like this was going to be pinned down by a black pencil skirt, a sweaty white collar, and the endless ordeal of earning a paycheck. I didn't want to believe that this moment or this woman was going to deteriorate and crumble into a lifeless skeleton someday. I didn't want to believe. I never want to believe. This got me thinking about the damned career fair.
"Was I to be doomed like those robots too?" I thought to myself. "Put in a cotton leash and thrown into a work camp? Did everything have to crumble to the ugly, honest, dull core inside?" 

She veered onto her own path and just like that I was thrown back onto my terribly real earth, once again searching through that giant box of gray for something with color.

Reviews

[bbb]

I think the second to the last paragraph is my favorite.This is the summation of a dreamer (or a person that's simply more of a creative thinker) questioning what conventional society offers most of us. It leaves me thinking there truly must be something better than succumbing to a career that will suck the life out of us. This is also full of some fabulous imagery as well, I could see everything you described. I was swept away in reading this, great job!

[Franklin...]

Very nice, your truly made that woman into something special in an ordinary world. I like the last line "searching through that giant box of gray for something with color." I did wonder, until about half way through, what kind of school it was set in. I wasn't sure what age-range to place the character in up to that point.