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  • Writer's pictureSophie

Day 250

The walk was long and boring, with nothing to see or do except stare at some leafless trees or make stories up in her head. She had just turned thirteen in the spring yet it felt as if nothing notable had ever happened to her. It was always a new house, a new sibling, and if she was lucky, a new friend, but that was always it. She expected nothing out of life and life expected nothing out of her. She never thought she would miss the consistency of her old life, but low and behold, as we know, she did. She kept looking at the lifeless trees, longing for a life she would eventually hate, walking down the dirt road to the Old Pine Library.


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