Thnk fr th Mmrs

[Theodora Oswald]

The young girl was sitting in the middle of the pavement, fiddling with a stand of hair from her braid. She had dropped her notebook and pencil not to far behind her, open on her current page with words scribbled across it. 'Turned onto Pennbrook rid- The word ended abruptly, maybe where she dropped the book. She was staring blankly into space, spaced out. No cars had pass her for a while, until the thrum of a motor drew nearer to her.