The first time he'd spoken to her was on a day when it rained.
Everybody stood at the corner of the road,huddled together in the downpour as they awaited the arrival of the bus.
And there she was,standing at the end of the road.
Her hair reached the top of her back,in a way that couldn't be defined.
She couldn't be defined.
None of the billions of words in the english language could ever compare to the walking paradox that was her.
Something strange possessed him. His nerves went on edge,his thoughts raged and thrashed in his mind till there was only one thing left.
Sania.
Everywhere he walked,everything he breathed.
It was her.
And he knew,goddamnit.
He knew that she was broken,and he knew that she stayed up late sketching with broken pieces of glass,hoping that one day someone would appreciate it.
She was a series of alphabets arranged in a way that took his breath away.
