Once upon a time, there was a hall of a big, modern building that was hold by sixteen columns.

 

All of them were round, wide, so tall… They filled up the space with strong diagonals capable of standing that heavy weight day after day. They were magnificent. When the sun hit them with it’s light; their shadows were projected powerfully on the parquet floor. People looked up to admire them…

 

And then was her: The seventeenth column.

She was always tired. So tired. She rested on a girder. She was not sure if she wanted to be a column anymore, because she realizes she doesn’t like to hold that building all the time.

 

Maybe she wanted to do something else, or do nothing at all. And she felt guilty because she thought she just might be lazy.

A lazy column.