Joy

You’re trudging home from college through the energetic University district, the weight of a long day pulling at your shoulders, the rain drumming relentlessly against your umbrella. Your one bedroom apartment beckons just ahead. As you round the corner onto your street, you spot a figure up ahead, standing in the downpour without any protection. It’s a girl, no older than you, her bright blue hair plastered to her face, dripping with rain. She’s wearing a floral dress clinging to her like a second skin. She’s not huddled under an awning or hurrying to get out of the rain—instead, she’s just… standing there, looking utterly lost. Her eyes dart around, wide and bewildered, as if she’s searching for something that isn’t there.