She walked with confident strides into the room, posture straight, chin high, steps firm and confident, all the while maintaining a friendly face. At the nearest vacant seat, she sat herself down, nodding agreeably to the person next to her. And she made a fuss over her things, arranging her file and notebook on the tiny table. Then only she turned to her neighbor and smiled cordially at her. Handshakes are exchanged, and they started to tell about themselves. She answered questions carefully, never giving more information than what was asked. It is her own private principle.
Then she looked about the room, at the other nine or so people who were there. She smiled at those who caught her eye. But she still kept guard. She had decided to let others not see her real personality. She wanted people to think that she is a no-nonsense, intelligent girl, but at the same time friendly and cordial. And by this time, she was confident enough that she had achieved her goal.
At that precise moment, the girl next to her neighbor pointed to her left shoe. A piece of red thread, obvious even at quite a distance, is stuck to her black shoe heel. She bent down and slowly removed it. It really looked quite ridiculous. All this while, people must have been laughing at her, whispering behind their hands and pointing at the thread. Her image is ruined, all because of a piece of red thread. And her newly-erected wall of self-esteem crumbled again.
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