Happiness…

Melania looked out into the world from inside of the warm cafe she was sitting in. One pale hand was wrapped around a coffee cup. She turned her head, allowing her dark hair to fall from her shoulders down to the table, pooling on its marble surface.

With one hand, she gingerly touched the freezing surface of the glass before her. Outside it was snowing; it was cold, and almost Christmas, and everyone seemed to be in a cheery mood.

Happiness…

The word rung in her mind again. This time, her palm fully pressed on the glass; Melania scoped out people amidst the flurries and cascades of white crystals.

She sorrowfully eyed a couple as they walked by the cafe, arms linked.

She felt like she was trapped in a glass box; she could see everything she wanted.

But she couldn’t touch it.

She couldn’t feel it.