Trotting down this very same path soon became almost routine for the young girl. A step taken into what always feels like the unknown, a breath released, courage mustered as another attempted was about to be made. As much as this island strove to emulate normalcy, nothing could conceal the gloomy atmosphere it seemed to uphold.
Being so lost in thought, she hadn’t noticed the person in her direct path. Hitting them with a bang, she ended up on the ground before she knew it. Eyes dragged downward as her pink hued gaze focused on dainty hands as they laid upon her lap. Completely embarrassed, the young girl began to speak.
❝ I-I’m sorry for running into you! ❞ stammered Mary, hopping up from the ground and smoothing out her dress.
❝ I-I should have been paying attention. I’m sorry! ❞
{ ✘♟✘ }
Flurry of cries are expected, and
given with a displaced nod
unattached and disembodied,
as if it’s an afterthought. She,
in truth, doesn’t hear them. How
can she? A mute-deaf of years
past, she observes body-language
and normal responses, not
sounds. Thus, though rude it may
be, girl merely continues search
for notebook and writing utensil
scattered to the far reaches of
path.
Notebook may have been
easy to locate, but pen was a
different matter. Times such
as these, it was wished that it
wasn’t so very tiny and easy
to misplace. Hands scour the
floor while eyes look dutifully
onwards, but, alas, to no avail.
A sigh will have to part lips.