She looks over the city with eyes half closed. The wind blusters through her curls and whipped back her unbuttoned white shirt behind her. She breathed in the polluted air, looking for the fresh smell of early morning air from the mountains beyond tall skyscrapers. And sometimes, she could still catch it. Leaves. Flowers. Dew. Flowing water. Earth.
This is her life now. When she thinks about how different it is from the dreams of her 12 year old self, she couldn't help but smile. What an innocent time. A hopeful time. A time for dreams and make-believe. Of simple days. Being surrounded by love and loved ones. Oh, it's not all lost, there are still all those things. Now, grounded. Real. Raw. Laughter that intertwines with grief.
And if she is in the mood to romanticise her life, she would say that they're all the more magical for it.
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