Her parents spoke about traveling to somewhere warm and tropical.
"Once we've saved enough money we'd all go" her parents had said.
She dreamed of aqua colored beaches in Mexico, sitting in the golden sand. Bits of it clung to her thigh, unable to be brushed off until the salty water dried. The sand could still be found months, and years after they left.
She dreamed of a lush town in Italy. The forests enclosing a small town, everything so busy yet so quiet and peaceful. The chatter drowning out the memories of anywhere else. She and her parents would sit together as a breeze would sweep past them, blowing everything out of its path.
Her mind would wander into the dashing cities. From London to Tokyo, Shanghai to Jakarta, Hong Kong to Milan. She'd feel so small in the big cities. She can happily explore without a care in the world. What type of difference could her mistakes possibly make? Her parents would always stay close to her, protecting her from any dangers encountered in the big city.
Her mother told her they could no longer afford these long-awaited trips. She and her father had gotten a divorce.
Without her father's income, there would be no prospecting adventures. There would be no sand, no forests and no family. She doesn't see her dad anymore, he also took her dog with him. Her mother brushes a teardrop away. "It's just a trip."
