The office smells faintly of coffee and printer ink. Not long ago, I would have ranked it as one of my favorite sensory stimulant, but now every time I step into the building it grips my nerves causing a shooting pain in my head.

I remember the day that I had first received this job. It was the perfect profession: safe, respected and financially secure. But after working for almost eight years as a data analyst, I have realized one thing that, just because it is the ideal occupation doesn’t mean it’s your dream job.  

I walk into the workspace, my heels making a rhythmic click as I cross the white floors straight to my room. Hastily turning on the computer, I open up my mail drafts. My heartbeat spikes and blood rushes furiously through my veins as I read its subject and the word ‘resignation’ flashes brightly across it.

‘It’s high time Inayat, you have to do this for yourself.’ Says a voice in my head as my finger hovers unsurely over the enter key.

In the next second another opinion floats into my mind, ‘think about it Ina, don’t regret it tomorrow”.

I hurriedly shut all the voices out and taking a deep breath, I send the email to my superior.

In this moment, I see my world burning; each skyscraper that I had built with every professional success lights up like a raging inferno. In the blink of an eye, my existence reduces to ashes. When I look at myself in the cracked and charred glasses I see a crazy impulsive woman who is out for herself.

‘What have I done?’  I question timidly, tears welling up in my eyes.

Regret and uncertainty claw at me; nails long and sharp, ready to tear me apart. But I won’t break just yet, especially when I have already taken the hardest step.

‘No second thoughts Ina. You’re going to go through with it’, I reprimand myself.

So I do just that: I go through with it. I draft another mail stating my journey, qualifications, conditions and inquiries, alongside which I attach some of my best works and send it to all the writing and publication networks I know.

I feel myself exhale a breath I didn’t know I was holding. Without delay four new mails fill up my inbox each showing their willingness to conduct my interview as soon as possible.

Now, I see myself standing in a lush green garden. It has an orange tint too but not because of dancing flames but rather the bright sun overhead, whose arms engulf me in a warm hug. The flowers are not in full bloom yet but I am ready to give them time and effort. When I see my reflection in the small pond, I see a peaceful and happy woman who has made her inner kid joyous.

‘What have I done?’ I question, a proud smile on my face.

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GLOSSARY: enjoying warmth from fire

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