Stolen Time

It was out here on the shore that things could become perfect. Here, quiet time was achievable. Here, where the rhythmic sound of the lapping waves and quiet calls of wingull washed over the noise in Karan’s head. She placed one foot out in front of the other again and again. She teetered one way and then the other, but kept her footing just the same. These sets of sticks stuck out of the sandy shore and formed her tightrope above it all. The grains of sand below her became the city and it’s neverending bustle. It became the quest for food and the constant search for a temporary home.

Dark alleys, lost cardboard boxes, empty flats - all of it could be a place to lay her head for an evening or three. But never much longer. She did a little pirouette and nearly came crashing down to the city below her. The endless sand clamored up at her, and begged her to fall, but still, she kept her balance and teetered on.

The shore put her heart at ease and the dying sunlight made her shadow grow long and stilted. She paused her balancing act to watch the sky melt into an endless array of hues and shades and smiled.

Quiet moments, stolen away from the greed of the city somewhere beneath her, somewhere far, far away.

There was little food here, and even less that she could call shelter. The shore was no place for her kind. But she found the snow-capped mountains unfriendly and the sleepy nothings of the little towns she passed on her way here and back too slow for the appetite for vibrance that squirmed in her belly. It was the shore, the city, and nothing more for her. With a wistful sigh at the dying sun, she hopped down from her tightrope and felt the sand dig itself around her clawed toes.

She scratched her stomach and turned her back on the darkening horizon and faced towards Kalos. With a yawn, she began her trek back to the city that would swallow her whole.