The Sphinx by the Pool

The corporate retreat was held at a luxury resort with an absurd Egyptian theme. Complete with replica statues and faux-hieroglyphic wallpaper in the conference rooms. Elena stood by the infinity pool at midnight, nursing her third gin and tonic, watching lightning fracture the sky above the desert mountains.

She'd just been promoted to VP. The pyramid scheme of corporate hierarchy had finally worked in her favor for once. But standing there in her silk robe, drink in hand, she felt like the stone sphinx at the pool's edge — inscrutable, ancient, silently asking questions she couldn't answer.

"Riddle me this," she whispered, the alcohol loosening her tongue. "What climbs the ladder but loses its soul?"

The answer was staring back at her from the dark water's reflection.

Her phone buzzed on the lounge chair. David. Her ex-husband, who'd left when the twelve-hour days became fourteen, when the business trips became permanent, when she started forgetting who she was outside the glass tower. She let it ring.

Another flash of lightning illuminated the pool's surface. For a moment, she saw her twenty-year-old self — the artist who'd studied abroad, the one who'd sworn she'd never become her mother, never trade passion for security. That girl had drowned somewhere in the corporate climb. Now she was the sphinx, all stone and mystery, with no one left to answer her riddles.

She took a final drink and set the glass on the stone ledge. The pyramid of her career rose before her in her mind's eye — each level built on the bones of who she used to be.

Tomorrow she'd give the keynote speech. Tomorrow she'd accept the promotion. Tomorrow she'd climb higher.

Tonight, she simply watched the lightning dance across the desert sky, and for the first time in years, Elena let herself mourn the woman she'd stopped becoming.