【𝐀 𝐕𝐞𝐢𝐥 𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐂𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐛𝐞𝐥】➛𝓑𝓵𝓪𝓬𝓴 𝓑𝓾𝓽𝓵𝓮𝓻

1

Stepping out of her home, she fumbled with her keys while trying to keep her bag securely on her shoulder. After finally locking the door, she double-checked by twisting the handle. Satisfied, she descended the steps. The wind was harsh and unrelenting, whipping her hair into her face as she made her way to the corner where her usual route to work began.

She always took the scenic route. It wasn't because she left late—she never did. Her strict punctuality, honed through years of discipline, was practically second nature. She always left extra time, arriving ten minutes early to work without fail.

Her walk carried her through a charming shopping street, rustic and cosy, with antique stores, bookshops, and quaint flower shops dotted along the way. It was picturesque, a small joy in her daily life.

She used to admire the blue house on the street the most, but they had painted it an off-white, dulling its charm. The change saddened her. That house had been one of the little things that brightened her day. Now, her attention had shifted to another favourite: the mint-green house two doors down.

Then it was the walk down the miserable alleyway that dampened her mood. She could very well take a longer route in which she wouldn't have to smell the stench of weed and the cat-calling of smoking men. But to avoid this route means she would have to avoid the part after this all together unless she was willing to swerve back.

As she continued walking, the wind softened into a gentle breeze. It created the perfect atmosphere for her favourite part of the route: the park. London's scattered parks offered a slice of greenery amidst the city, and she cherished this particular one.

Perhaps her love for nature stemmed from a childhood deprived of it. Her steps slowed to a leisurely pace as she passed through the black gates enclosing the park. It was still early, so the park was quiet but not empty. Runners jogged along the paths, women gathered on the grass for morning yoga, and dog walkers strolled with their companions.

She paid them little attention. The interaction wasn't her forte. Apart from the occasional chat with Miss Holdsworth, her kind neighbour, she didn't speak to many people.

"I can't believe him! He literally talked to another girl right in front of me!— It doesn't matter if she was his boss! He still smiled at her!"

The shrill, complaining voice grated on her ears. She turned her attention back to the squirrel she'd been watching, but it scurried away as the obnoxious woman's voice grew louder.

Sighing, she resisted the urge to trip the girl and simply stood to leave, averting her gaze from the dull winter flowers. Such whining was one of the many things she despised.

She also hated doctors and scientists, though she had a strong grasp of medical knowledge. Loud noises also annoyed her, as did tuna.

She moved to a different spot in the park, settling on an empty bench. A paper bag dangled from her hand, holding a sandwich from a shop along her route—St. Gentleman's is a place known for its exceptional sandwiches.

Taking her first bite, she crossed her legs and glanced at her watch. There was still plenty of time before work. She ate slowly, savouring the food. Her moody gaze wandered to the children playing in the park—laughing, climbing trees, and chasing each other. Some seemed to be roleplaying.

Though she craved a quiet, peaceful life, a nagging voice in the back of her mind longed for something more—adventure or purpose, perhaps.

She couldn't change her past or the way she'd been raised, but now that her purpose seemed scrapped, the quiet life felt foreign. She liked the peace, but it wasn't enough.

Finishing her sandwich, she threw the empty packaging into a nearby bin. What could she do? Anything she tried posed a danger to those around her. The lonely, quiet life was the safest option, even if it wasn't fulfilling.

She checked her watch again, sighed deeply, and allowed herself five more minutes to soak in the park's serene environment.

"I wish I could simply start over in a time where no one knows of me,"

Leaning back on the bench, she gazed at the grey skies. The soft patter of movement drew her attention, and she turned her head to find a snow-white dove pecking at the crumbs of her sandwich.

It paused, its beady eyes fixed on her. Then, it hopped onto the backrest of the bench, perching beside her head. Together, they sat in silence, the bird occasionally turning toward loud voices or the sight of a smoker carelessly tossing a lit cigarette onto the grass.

"You hate this society too, don't you?" she said with a faint smile, her eyes flicking to the discarded cigarette laid in the grass.

Closing her eyes she felt the dove move onto her shoulder, opening her eyes to glance over at the white bird made her crack a small smile. Looking over to the bin to find the discarded cigarette where it belonged, she sighed, closing her eyes once more as she sat in a comfortable silence with the dove perched on her shoulder.

"Human decency seems to be a rare find these days," she muttered, leaning back against the bench, her thoughts adrift.