#133-26

     The city was asleep, but she wasn't.

She walked slowly between wood, concrete, and forgotten lights, her white hair dancing in the wind, her eyes fixed straight ahead. Every step seemed to tell a story: an escape, a memory, perhaps the beginning of a new life.

She wasn't there to be seen.
She was there to remind herself who she was.

She had learned that not everyone belongs to a place. Some belong to a road, a night, a precise moment when they decide to stop being afraid.

And that night, she had made her choice.

She would never look back.

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