A girl, no older than 23, lived in a time cycle. Wake up, go to work, come home, sleep. Wake up to the mouldy shutters that filtered in grey sun rays. Go to the office she lived and breathed for but never heard a breath in return from. Come home to the wet dog apartment that was a scrap yard of pizza boxes and scattered chinese cartoons, some now having become fly homes. Sleep a dreamless sleep. No, not dreamless. Just empty. She dreamed of the work promotion she craved with every fibre of her being. The promotion that would finally have her hard work acknowledged, would give her a salary large enough to afford nice things. Maybe even that cute Chanel bag that sits glowing in the shop window as she sprints by on her way to work each day. Or those breathtaking double edge gold earrings that are just calling her name from Louis Vuitton. That's what the promotion would do. Give her the things she needs to be happy and make a life for herself. People would gasp at her fashionable tastes and gush over her glossy hair. This would make her heart sing. Because she was nothing, a nobody. And so she got up. Worked. Came home. Slept. Always dreaming of the promotion, the earrings, the happiness. “It’ll come this Winter, I’m sure of it!” she declared each day of autumn, lying in her hammock bed listening to the drip…drip…drip of the leaky taps. 

Winter came and her prayer turned into,

“I will get that promotion this Spring! I have to.”

Spring passed. 

“My life depends on that promotion and this Summer it is mine!”

Months of praying and still no luck she gave up, letting go of the fantasy of a dream she had once called happiness. And so she continued to pour her soul into her job without a single acknowledgement. She still sighed wistfully at the laughing girls who had it all. The bags, clothes, boyfriends. You name it, they had it. Her smile was always upside down, her hair unwashed and at a fast food greasiness level. Pizza boxes lined every nook and cranny of the sailors apartment, at least you’d think it was a sailors apartment. 

Winter came again, and the time loop was still a time loop. Except today was her day off. Yipee. An expired bubble bath and construction noise drilling into her skull. CRACK…BANG…CREEEE…BANG. Such fun. After the water went cold and the noise was too much to take anymore, she threw on her threadbare clothes, grabbed the keys and made way down the alleys of New York in search of something, anything to dream about. After walking down streets aimlessly for hours window shopping, she decided to call it quits and return to the damn old home sweet home. In her rush to get away from all the smiling faces crowding the street and wallow in her misery, she fumbled her keys.

 “Shot, god dammit. Just what I need!”

Huffing, she threw her purse over her shoulder and crouched down, trying to find the swimming keys in a sea of feet. 

“Excuse me.” “Sorry” “Pardon me!”

Finally her hands connected with the I 💖 NY keychain that was rusted to a rotten orange. 

“Aha!” she exclaimed “Gotcha” 

Standing, muscles stiff from being hunched over, she saw a little fluffy tail dash under the broken storm grate. Sighing in desperation to just be allowed time for some self pity today, she crouched back down, peering into the gloomy grate.

“Hello? Little guy?”, she tutted cautiously, “Anyone home?”

Little bluck crystals came into view, a white nose poking into her blotchy nose. The little dog was quaking uncontrollably, not that she blamed him, running wild in this stampeding herd of giants. 

“Hi little one,” she whispered, careful not to frighten the poor guy, “where’s your mummy ha? You must have a mummy with fur this pristine and fluffy.”

Picking up the frightened pup, she looked around, wishing the stupid person who lost the dog in the first place would magically appear and she could finally get this sh*t hole of a day over with. Of course, this was not the case. For an hour, she ran around the bustling New York block calling out to pass-a-bys.

“Hi, um, excuse me! Is this your dog?”

All she got was weird, who are you talking to me you freak side stares. On the verge of giving up a woman, arms full of designer emblazoned shopping bags, came running at her, tears streaking her mascara and yelling, distraught,

“Oh baby, where have you been!?”

The woman collided with the girl, scooping the now yapping puff ball into her laden arms.

“Oh darling, don’t ever do that again! Mummy was worried sick!”

Seemingly having found the little guy a home, the young girl gathered her tatty purse, a redness flushing her cheeks when she compared herself to this wealthy woman, and turned off in the direction of her dump of a dwelling. 

“Miss, excuse me!”, the woman cried after her, “Please, wait!”

Pinching the bridge of her nose to keep it together, the girl turned and faced the lady.

“What?” she quelmed

The women grabbed the girl's hand in her own and looked at her with eyes so earnest they could melt butter. 

“Thank you”

With that, the lady turned and walked away. Dumbstruck, the girl stood speechless. Blinking, she zombically trudged home, mouth agape and eyelids fluttering. There was a strange sensation growing in her chest. A warmness spreading that spoke of Christmas laughter and honeysuckle scents. She couldn’t remember the last time the words Thank you had ever been directed at her. Complete blank. Her lips twitched upwards as the key slid into her bunged lock of the apartment that suddenly didn’t seem so broken. If she could feel this way after helping one little pup, what would helping other pups feel like?

And so she did. Quit her job and day after day rescued animals from the streets of New York. She watched them flourish under her care, and saw joy spark in their eyes. Joy that was now reflected back into her eyes. She didn;t have the promotion or the cute chanel bag and louis vuitton earrings, but that didn’t matter to her because she wasn’t a nobody anymore. She was somebody.