Ficlets

Walking down familiar cobblestoned pathways between stone buildings covered in greenery, I breathed in the fresh cold air and reminisced on past memories. Blood, sweat, and tears, sleepless nights, inside jokes, and the occasional milk-through-the-nose, and here I was: still making it.

I walked against the current of the crowd of people gossiping, stressing, dropping books, frantically searching for cell phones and car keys, some desperate for a pillow, others looking for the next rush.

I was on the outside looking in, observing the chaotic, and waiting for the next big scandal.

Just me and my trusty journal.