Free By the Time You Read This by Lola Jaye

that thing called a “work ethic,” getting herself a position with Marks a few doors down. We’d meet for lunch and ride the bus in together. And apart from launching into a progress report on Corey’s eventful life in Paris (which I really didn’t need, considering he’d managed one postcard since his departure) it was great.
    Dear Lo Bag,
    Paris is great. Such a beautiful city. You should see the art. I spent hours at the Musée duLouvre the other day. Wish I could move in! The Arc de Triomphe is also a wicked piece of architecture.
    Hope everything is cool.
    Take care,
Corey x
    After a few months and the day of my nineteenth birthday, I was promoted to supervisor at the shoe shop and Carla announced her resignation from Marks, citing severe boredom. Although there was never any fun in tearing down defaced pictures of myself produced by colleagues jealous of my swift promotion, this wasn’t what forced me to leave…
    …this is the BEST time for you. No responsibilities, young and free. Get out there, Lowey, and explore, travel. Need help on where to go? Close your eyes and think of a sky and you lying under it—what would you be wearing? A (baggy) bikini? Fake fur coat with a woolly hat? Where are you, Lowey?
    Visualize it.
    Are you barefoot lying on a beach or trekking a dusty route near smallish mountains in thick hiking boots? Africa, Asia, Americas, Himalayas? You’re at an age when you’re probably broke, can’t afford much, but ironically it’s also the best time to travel (don’t worry, there will be times when you are older, but the freedom you have right now is priceless, you’ll see). If you’re at college or university, there’s always half-term. Get a Saturday job, save up, but just go. Anywhere. See the world. Discover how others live. There is so much of this universe to explore. You know, I always told myself I’d travel when I got my gold watch and retired. Me, you and your mom backpacking in Australia or something. We’d even talked about it a few times and I also liked the idea of going on safari in Africa before your mom quite rightly reminded me of my phobia (yes, your dad has one) of cats. I had to remind her that BIG cats were different to those small ones that roam the high street at night, squealing and scratching everything in sight. They’re different; big cats are manly cats! I’m digressing. Bottom line is, I had the dreams to travel and…well, we all know what happened to THOSE dreams. It didn’t happen then and probably isn’t about to happen now. I used to have this weird and basically unfounded thought that I had loads of time left at my disposal…well, more fool me.
    Growing up seems to happen in half a heartbeat.
    Tomorrow’s not guaranteed, so live today. See the world.
    Apart from that trip over as a child, I only got to go to Spain for my honeymoon and I so regret not traveling more when I had the chance. So do as I say, Lowey, NOT AS I DID.
    “I can’t believe she’s leaving a good job to gallivant around America for three months!” whined Mom to anyone who’d listen. Carla’s mom was at our kitchen table painting her nails a bright red as Mom prattled on and I made a pot of tea, my mind wondering about what the next phase of my life would hold.
    America.
    Although this wasn’t the land I envisaged once I closed my eyes, it was the most affordable thanks to a charitable organization called Jump America that made it possible for students and young people to “explore” America. They’d fix me up with a three-month job too, and all for the price of a subsidized ticket, with food and lodgings thrown in. I posted my application, knowing I’d be turned down anyway, but hoping for one summer not filled with Mom and the Bingo Caller alternating between Terry and June and Kathleen Turner and Michael Douglas from The War of the Roses.
    “I think it’s a great idea!” chipped in Carla’s mom, blowing on her newly painted red nails as Mom and I sat in her