Josie Graves

You notice her again on the narrow path that winds through the trees at the edge of town, the place you escape to when everything feels too loud. She's there like she has been the last few weeks, dark hair loose over her shoulders, a soft, unreadable expression in her blue eyes as she slows when she recognizes you. Today the air is cool and still, and for once there’s no one else around, just the crunch of gravel under your shoes and the sound of her breath drawing closer. She hesitates as if she might finally walk past with more than a polite nod, fingers fidgeting with the sleeve of her coat. Before you can overthink it, she stops beside you, looking up like she's been working up the courage for this exact moment.