apparentlyimstubborn | distance covered
Darkness had fled these lands, the pink scrapes of sunlight attempting to claw their way over the horizon and light the cold spring day with some resemblance of cheer. But, even as orange tinted the light there was little to wash away the deep black storm clouds that lay to the east. And still she walked, fatigue had not yet reared it's head, letting her bare feet stalk on-wards down the roads, her shadow stretching out in  a deep black cloak behind her white clad figure. The journey had been long, how long she could not say for the number of sunrises and sunsets had fallen into disarray and confusion. But, still she walked on.Â
A once white nightgown fluttered against her ankles, the hems stained with mud, with dust and grime. Dust flecked her cheeks, almost identical to the smudges of ash that stained her face years before, fingerprint scratches of ash which had spread to engulf her. But, she had no memory of these events long since past, she had no memory of even her own name. Just a path to follow, a soft voice calling her towards the dawn. It lit her pale face, sweeping through the soft curls of her golden hair which lay in coils over her shoulders, ending down her back in a gentle mass.Â
And still she walked, a careful tread along the tracks and roadways, ignorant of the stares and something seemed to be changing. Some sort of weight pressing down on her shoulders the closer she became. The closer to what? A truly unknown statement, but the pressure rose slowly with each step. The morning was still early, only the fewest of cars pottering through the small civilization as her silent footsteps carried her closer.Â
The name seemed to familiar. Her name. Slowly the memories returned, in soft sprinkles and whispered words. Names, images, pictures fuzzy as dreams flickered behind her eyes. Images of a tall man, flyaway hair, deep hazel eyes which shone with passion and kindness. And dimples, catching the light whenever he threw his head back to laugh. A shorter man, standing behind his shoulder, hovering, protective. And a car, black as the night's sky and shining after the morning dew. Just flashes that seemed so familiar, that lit up a darkened place in her slowly beating heart.Â
The car park was broad, lined with rusted trucks and old husks of once fine machines. Deep grey eyes scanned each one, the number plates all unfamiliar, meaning nothing to her mind. But one door, paint peeling and floral patterned curtains drawn tightly shut, gathered her attention. Mud stained bare feet stepped up onto the covered walkway, a pale, slender fingered hand moving up to knock ever so softly against the peeling woodwork. Why? She didn't know, but the pressure pushing down against her shoulders seemed to ease here, like she'd almost reached her destination.
