Dissipation

Aspen

The girl passed through the crowd, unnoticed by the people passing by. She sighed heavily and leaned against the railing on the bridge, digging through her pocket for the last of the food she’d bought yesterday. She peeled off the first bit of peel on the orange and absently dropped it into the Thames, watching the dot of color shrink rapidly, then get pulled under the murky water. The rest of the peel she put in her pocket.
As she separated the sections of the orange, she decided what she would do. She really hadn’t meant to run away, just take a walk, like she told the doorman. But something drew her on, away from the hotel, watching people appear in the street and going about their business, finally leaving her to have breakfast by herself at a café, walking along the Thames, always watching people.
She’d spent the night in another hotel on the other side of London. The person at the front desk conveniently asked no questions, just found her a room, accepting her near-perfect British accent. She’d eaten dinner at the restaurant downstairs, and checked out the next morning.
Aspen sighed. She’d go back to Susanna, of course. She didn’t want to just wander around randomly.
But she wouldn’t go back to what Mom and Dad had planned for her.