RYLIE
I was on a bridge.
I did not remember how I reached here. I lifted both hands to hug myself, rubbing my elbows. It was very cold out here despite the stinging rays of the sun kissing my neck.
One unsteady foot was placed in front of the other on the bridge; I had to get home and escape this biting cold. My body delayed, the muscles tired, so I rested halfway through, a huge branch providing the relief my back needed and shading me from that biting sun, but there was nothing to be done about the cold.
I was tired, drained, exhausted. No one was out in the trees today; I was alone; there was no hum of activity, no pattering of feet as people crossed the bridges going about their days, and even the creatures were silent. Perhaps everyone was trying to escape this biting cold as well.
I should get home too.
