Hot Dog

            Ugly. Everything was so ugly here. The phone rang for the thirty seventh time, chorusing with the other strident rings of the office.
            And noisy.
            I sighed and stared at the telephone for a while, as it insistently called for attention. I finally willed my arm to move, and picked up the handset.
            "ClearSoul Insurance, how can I help you?" I don't know why the company had such a New Agey name. It didn't really seem very credible. Of course, everyone in the company thought it was pretty serious stuff, judging from all the bustling about, the frantic rhythm of salesman speech, the false enthusiasm of office banter, and the permanent smell of watered-down coffee. I wished everyone would see it. The ugliness, that is. Everything was so ugly. From the moment I woke up to the moment I slid back under my covers, I felt assailed by it. Sometimes, it even found its way to my dreams. And yet, everyday I rose to endure it again, and again.
            "Hello? Hello?" Oh.
            "Yes, my apologies, ma'am." Shrivel up and die, old hag.
            Soon, too late, came my lunch break. I always found it so ironic. What was I taking a break from? Every day, I would take this dreary office and its ugliness, only to find myself faced with more ugliness. Cafeteria, diner across the street, hot dog vendor, ugly. I don't know when I started noticing all this hideousness, or when the word "ugly" took on such a predominant presence in my thoughts.
            I sighed.
            I paid the hot dog vendor double what he charged me, mumbled my goodbyes, and went back through the revolving glass doors. It took all of three minutes and twenty-three seconds. While I stood waiting for the elevator, a sudden thought struck me. I would search for my own beauty in this ugly world. I mean, it must exist somewhere, right? Suddenly excited, I spun right, headed through the fire exit and flew up the stairs. I burst through the other fire door, at the very top, and onto the roof. I stood there for a moment, mustard smeared against my impeccable suit, tie, the works.
            Then I laughed.
            Oh, how I laughed. It was a hearty sound, one so unfamiliar, and I wondered if I had ever laughed this honestly with this adult voice. Somewhat lightheaded from this euphoria, I leaned against the railing, taking a bite of my ruined hot dog.
            Glass and steel expanded before me in pillars, each a different shade, a different size, but all the same. Down below, the criss-crossing lines of traffic seemed so insignificant, and the buffetting winds muffled the honking cacophony, the human chaos. Far, far away, yet bulging so close was the orange sun, so low on the horizon yet merely kissing the world with a burst of light, an explosion ready to cleanse the Earth.
            I leaned further forward, one hand on the railing, the other reaching towards the glowing orb, the long-forgotten hot dog having tumbled down below, returning home. Oh, how I wished I could take a hold of that sun, that burning yet dying light, make it mine. I stretched forward, desire burning within me.
            Suddenly, the wind blew stronger, soaring through me. The world below seemed closer, its chaotic sounds fanfaring loudly, and the sun seemed to grow closer too. I reached out, towards its burning glow, and grasped it.
            Beautiful. Everything was so beautiful here.