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fine day
Crossing the street, into traffic. The sun burst and Emily walked on. Holding how much she might have done, hiding it from her mind and heart. It was inside, it wrapped around her. The sweater she wore, holding the warmth, was itself worn, comfortable.

Her mind felt endless, following her as she walked into a record store, and slipped through the aisles poring over the different genres all laid out. The CDs she did pick up reminded her of something, but by the time she looked at the track listing she wasn't quite sure what that was. She was so focused on the rythm of this that she ran into someone accidentally, a young man standing with headphones at a listening station.

"Sorry," she said automatically. The man had blond hair, a wispy moustache.

"It's alright," he said, his voice quiet.

Emily tried to focus on the records in front of her.