the taste was still lingering in her mouth.
too many places have left their mark, and now she's getting careless. and thoughtless. she hurriedly reached for her things and tried to discount the nagging sensation that she was not who she set out to be. in her rushed attempt to find solace from yesterday's wounds, she had given away her faith, piece by piece.
as the cold wind hit her face when she stepped out on the street, she ignored the fact that when she looked her friend in the eye as she passed, there wasn't a hint of recognition.
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i have long envied the writers of myth and dreamed of living in ancient times so my words would shape our most primal memories
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