(no subject)
WHO: Sıdıka (Turkey) and Andrei (Romania)
WHEN: Sunday night, the 23rd.
WHERE: At the park.
WHAT: What was supposed to be a late stroll in the park turns into a coincidental reunion.
A heavy sigh swept past her lips as she stopped just in front of the lake, broad but shallow, and covered in ice from the winter's frigid breath. Sıdıka folded her arms over her bosom, brow creased and hair pulled back into sloppy ponytail so not to blow into her face as she walked, and appearing more or less restless as she shifted her weight from one foot to the other, though it was without much reason. She rarely had a reason. Frankly, she wasn't satisfied with where she was right now, in life and in her relationships, which were close to nonexistent. Work was a pain to go to. She needed better hobbies. Dance was her passion, but people annoyed her to the point of wanting to hurt the clients -- not the first time she'd be threatened to be fired.
Everything was just a bother. Allah, her friends -- friend -- were even giving her unwelcome advice that she never asked for.
Sıdıka wasn't dressed horribly appropriate for the weather, wearing only a black peacoat over a rather plain shirt and skinny jeans. Her scarf and gloves were forgotten at home, having left the apartment impatiently and without much thought at all, just walking straight until she reached the park, the place perfect for clearing her head. She stepped back and sat on the bench, dusted white with snow, and flopped on thoughtlessly to gaze up at the endless sky. It lacked a blanket of clouds that would have otherwise allowed the world to be at least a few degrees warmer. The woman huffed and pressed her palms over her ears to keep them warm. It was late, but she didn't want to go home.
WHEN: Sunday night, the 23rd.
WHERE: At the park.
WHAT: What was supposed to be a late stroll in the park turns into a coincidental reunion.
A heavy sigh swept past her lips as she stopped just in front of the lake, broad but shallow, and covered in ice from the winter's frigid breath. Sıdıka folded her arms over her bosom, brow creased and hair pulled back into sloppy ponytail so not to blow into her face as she walked, and appearing more or less restless as she shifted her weight from one foot to the other, though it was without much reason. She rarely had a reason. Frankly, she wasn't satisfied with where she was right now, in life and in her relationships, which were close to nonexistent. Work was a pain to go to. She needed better hobbies. Dance was her passion, but people annoyed her to the point of wanting to hurt the clients -- not the first time she'd be threatened to be fired.
Everything was just a bother. Allah, her friends -- friend -- were even giving her unwelcome advice that she never asked for.
Sıdıka wasn't dressed horribly appropriate for the weather, wearing only a black peacoat over a rather plain shirt and skinny jeans. Her scarf and gloves were forgotten at home, having left the apartment impatiently and without much thought at all, just walking straight until she reached the park, the place perfect for clearing her head. She stepped back and sat on the bench, dusted white with snow, and flopped on thoughtlessly to gaze up at the endless sky. It lacked a blanket of clouds that would have otherwise allowed the world to be at least a few degrees warmer. The woman huffed and pressed her palms over her ears to keep them warm. It was late, but she didn't want to go home.