So, I’m leaving Quantum of Solace, which wasn’t good or bad enough to write about, so I won’t.
Anyway, my brother and I are on our way out when I look over and see a beautiful girl, about my age, with long red hair, in a black wheelchair. I don’t see many chair people out, but that’s not what strikes me about her. I’d have noticed her anyway, the look on her face. Still, she’s being pushed in her chair, and she looks so down, so alone in such a crowded lobby. She looks on the outside how I feel on the inside nearly all the time. I want to stop and say something, anything, but I don’t, spontaneous conversation kind of lost to me.
I’ll never see her again, never know her story. It’s a weird feeling, but not uncommon.1 comment
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