Moving Forward

CHARLOTTE

I spent most of the day in the establishment, which did me a lot of good. It was warm. The atmosphere smelled delicious, and I felt safe. My head still throbbed, and my body trembled slightly; this reinforced my need to sit still.

The restaurant was located in the city’s hub, and sitting next to the window gave me a vintage view of the world outside as well; it felt like a movie I had been missing out on. Elena’s visit roused something in me, possibly fueled by the possibility of losing shelter, but it was there nonetheless.

It was a thought that had been creeping into my mind slowly, a voice I hadn’t been paying attention to, but recent events had given it some credence. “The world’s moved on without me,” I muttered, staring at the people on the street.

I had spent time engulfed in my grief of losing my parents, going between numerous foster homes, and finally being too old for that, then coming to Milan to work. I had been so focused on myself that I forgot to see the worl