Reid@YWP

A wall of reflections

I see you, 

as you berate yourself,

day in

and day out, 

about your imperfections.

A clock ticks on the wall.

All the other kids are talking.

I can’t think.

I can’t focus.

I’m lost.

Detached from the world.

I look up, and see someone leaning against the wall.

I know them…but how?

They are watching us, if that’s what it takes. They are waiting, waiting, waiting, for our decisions that will mean their life or death, and that of their planet. We can wait, watch, hope they are able to do it themselves. Or.

Cars go by.

Snow and rain falls.

Seasons change.

But through it all, she is there. In the same spot, everyday, all day, the watcher is there.

She sighed, laying her head back against the tree. How lucky she was, to have this loyal forest, all to herself. This forest that loved no other, that spoke not of her secrets but only of the beauty of its children.

Books. They're doorways to infinite universes, each door holding a world unlike any other. If one world isn't to your liking, you can just open another door.