Memoria

There are so many things in life. Different experiences, people, futures. But even though it feels like people are the ones who make the world stop spinning sometimes, once in a while, fate conjures up a soul so destroyed, so broken, yet happy enough to keep walking. I met a man like that one cloudy afternoon. Under a bridge. Safe from the beings that ruled above.

I was walking on a dirt road one Sunday afternoon in the lonely town of Aberdeen. I wore my mud stained white sandals with my old ripped up blue sun dress. Yeah, like wearing a sun dress would ever call that big glowing orb in the sky to shine on this small lonely town. Surprisingly, the wind was still today, and my shoulder length navy blue hair stood obediently in place. My torn jeans hung just below my knees unhappily. ' I wonder if God makes the clouds
to show souls where to go.' I thought. ' There sure are a lot of them.' What a stupid thought. Nobody really believes in God that much anymore...

I played with the small pink flower clip in my hair repeatedly after about an hour of walking