My Memory of a Girl

Facing the ground, the wind whips her hair across her face. One hand reaches up to tuck it behind her ear, out of the way. Glancing to one side, her face momentarily comes into view as a single tear cascades down her cheek, the only remaining evidence, a glistening trail residing on her skin. She clutches her belongings closer to her chest as the unheard world moves around her, closing in on her, oppressing her thoughts and fears. Again the wind thrashes against her tired form, so bitterly cold, achingly vivid, obstructing her movement with a unique sort of physical pain. She shuffles along as the surrounding people merge into one.
As the intense chill enshrouds me, I turn away. Just one person in the midst of a human race, helpless to defend against the enmity of a corrupt world, continues her life as before and within one moment, she has gone.