Encounter

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A girl walks around London. She marvels at the treasures the city holds and wishes she could stay longer than the family trip mandated. Her name is Peony. She looks up at the sky, which is blue except for the places covered with clouds. They look as though they have somewhere to go, somewhere important. Do clouds have a Parliament?

A stranger bumps into her. His inky black curls are in disarray. "Sorry," Peony says, helping him to gather up a few loose papers he had been holding.

"It's fine," he replies. His voice is quick and deep. Then he looks at her. Just for a moment. "Curious," he whispers, as though he cannot help it.

"What?" Peony replies. She is no great beauty, though something tells her he is not looking at her face.

"Of all the people to bump into... it is curious that I should bump into the one woman in this great city without secrets or burdens." He glances at her again. "Don't worry," he assures her. "The world will give you many secrets and burdens soon enough." And before Peony has time to ask, he is gone, his black coat fluttering behind him.

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