Surprisingly, the light shredded through the thick clouds. She was actually walking about the day, as if she was like any other normal person. Her choice of scenic route wasn’t of the ordinary though. Of course, she was in Susukino, slinking about the back ways. Maybe she felt ashamed because she could never feel a part of the crowd, so she avoided everyone together. Perhaps it was because she clung onto her firm beliefs that no one was to be trust and everyone was to be hated. She wouldn’t risk accidentally stumbling over a stranger. To fall into another person’s life would be disastrous. For them or her, she wasn’t sure.
The district was particularly enchanting that late morning. Stumbling drunks and off duty prostitutes were just now heading back home after a night that would be forever hushed under their liquor stained breaths. The paths were all hushed into a calling calm of eerie silence and dead lullabies. The whole world had an overall gray cast, making her believe she was travelling through a time frozen world. The air was a bitter stab to her lungs, fall was taking its leave and winter was settling in.
She was bundled so prettily in a black pea coat, a blue scarf wrapped so snugly around her neck. Her chocolate curls spilled out from the black beret pinned to the top of her head. Those emerald eyes, so wide and deceptively innocent, watched her gray colored world with distance. She didn’t feel tied to her environment. It was like she had to connect herself with a string, not strong enough to firmly plant herself on the ground.
Everything felt withered. What the hell was she doing? The stillness of her plans was driving her mad. As always, Kotaza was left confused and frustrated with the choices. Paths were thrown down in front of her, a thousand thoughts screamed at her to pick one, and none of them moved her. Nothing ripped the bravado up through her soul and into action. She was still. A silent statue. A withering tree. A buried corpse.
The young Nara stood in between two rows of apartments that were at one time beautiful. Now time and evolution had driven away their glory. What was left was worn paint, withering rocks, and tacky apparel. Streamlines of laundry billowed softly in the brisk air, blotting out the sky. For what it was worth, she liked the laundry better than the boring clouds. She was halted by the scene. To most, it was ordinary life, but she felt a candid sensation about the scene that put her in on hold.
The district was particularly enchanting that late morning. Stumbling drunks and off duty prostitutes were just now heading back home after a night that would be forever hushed under their liquor stained breaths. The paths were all hushed into a calling calm of eerie silence and dead lullabies. The whole world had an overall gray cast, making her believe she was travelling through a time frozen world. The air was a bitter stab to her lungs, fall was taking its leave and winter was settling in.
She was bundled so prettily in a black pea coat, a blue scarf wrapped so snugly around her neck. Her chocolate curls spilled out from the black beret pinned to the top of her head. Those emerald eyes, so wide and deceptively innocent, watched her gray colored world with distance. She didn’t feel tied to her environment. It was like she had to connect herself with a string, not strong enough to firmly plant herself on the ground.
Everything felt withered. What the hell was she doing? The stillness of her plans was driving her mad. As always, Kotaza was left confused and frustrated with the choices. Paths were thrown down in front of her, a thousand thoughts screamed at her to pick one, and none of them moved her. Nothing ripped the bravado up through her soul and into action. She was still. A silent statue. A withering tree. A buried corpse.
The young Nara stood in between two rows of apartments that were at one time beautiful. Now time and evolution had driven away their glory. What was left was worn paint, withering rocks, and tacky apparel. Streamlines of laundry billowed softly in the brisk air, blotting out the sky. For what it was worth, she liked the laundry better than the boring clouds. She was halted by the scene. To most, it was ordinary life, but she felt a candid sensation about the scene that put her in on hold.