"Sir!"
"Sir!"
A young girl in pink, clutching a bundle, ran through the streets, desperately trying to catch the departing boat at the dock. She paid no mind to the obstacles around her; even when her leg struck a wooden box, she barely felt the pain—her only thought was to make that boat wait for her.
"Sir!" She stumbled to the dock's edge, nearly unable to stop herself from falling into the water.
But all she saw was the series of ripples spreading out from the stern of the boat and the lanterns hanging on either side.
Because she had run so fast, her slightly disheveled hair fluttered in the breeze, drifting elegantly without chaos.
"Sir..." Those words she couldn't finish, in the end, she no longer had the courage to utter.
She was too late, even though she could have acted without hesitation at the time.
Just half an hour earlier.
