She sat on a bench that
faced nowhere in
particular, a
half-finished coffee
cooling beside her. The
afternoon light moved
through the trees in
slow, uncertain patterns,
and she watched a dog
chase a leaf it would
never catch.
Somewhere inside her, the
same restlessness circled
the same question: what
was she supposed to be
doing right now, instead
of this? But the bench
did not ask anything of
her. The grass did not
correct her.
She stayed until the
coffee was gone, and for
a little while, being
lost felt less like a
mistake and more like a
place she was allowed to
be.