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Tana F Bridgers Apr 2018
It was what one might call a rainy day, but I had called it a melancholy of nature. Everything had been sorrowfully drenched as if the rain itself was weighing on their minds. A heavy mist had settled just above the cold ground, one that limited your vision to only a few feet. The pavement had no cracks, no indentations for mournful puddles to dejectedly form.
   Indeed, as I walked down the endless paved path, It seemed as though I was the only one here. As though an eternity had stretched itself around me, around this single moment in time. And I could walk, and walk until time ended.
   As rain rolled down the hood of my gray raincoat, thoughts and memories ran slowly through my mind like a slideshow of bittersweet emotion. I fingered the strap over my shoulder. I had, of course, brought my camera.
   My camera, an old Polaroid, had served me well. I had once dreamt of being a photographer, but as my dreams for the future had disappeared, my film was eventually empty. Now, it was nothing more than a memento of the past.
   I began to approach a figure standing alone in the rain, though they seemed dry. They wore a raincoat, much like mine, except a dark shade of purple. They had no camera, and would not face me, but followed when I began to pass. As we walked together down the paved road, they continued to face the ground, seemingly avoiding my gaze.
   I did not know who they were, nor where they came from, other than the mist. They seemed almost familiar, and yet they did not seem tangible. I heard them take a small breath, as though they were gathering their courage. Then, they said,
   “Always. . .” They stopped for a moment and then began to speak again. “Let your heart decide what is the truth. Then, let your brain decide how to explain that to others. And never be ashamed of who you are. For when you are true to yourself, your creator cannot be disappointed; they have made you be that way.”
   I heard the sigh, who I then guessed was a girl about my age, and then watched her stop, fading out of my view as a continued to walk through the mist.
   I cannot say with certainty that I ever saw her again.
I like this, even if it is just eye candy...
I actually wrote this because the girl is supposed to be like someone I know who is a very strong and wonderful person, though I fear they may never know this.

— The End —