she walks alone.

"1,2,3,4,5...55."

that's the number of birkenstocks she's seen within 45minutes.
people stop. people stare. this little girl, walking, hands in pockets, staring at everyones shoes.

it's 6.45pm. half an hour to go. she's a little lonely. just a little. she's just the whole afternoon in the library walking up and down the aisles of endless shelves and books.

"24,25,26...8."

a tear starts to well up in her eyes. she's leaving again.

guess it'll take a little getting used to.

something that i've always wanted. now that i've got it, i just know that i would want to give it back in no time.

already, she misses them.
with all her heart.