There’s a little girl feeding the seagulls below on the lakeside. I sit on the other side, freezing my feet off, wearing shoes much too thin for this weather. The meek Sun barely brushes my hair as I sit on the hill, yet below, she and her father still have enough to comfortably bathe in.

  You don’t see that very often anymore, I think to myself. I used to feed ducks. It seems in todays age that staying inside has become the norm. Forever expected to distance and despair, losing all sense of real life. We attach dogmas and stigmas to actions, it almost feels like being a decent human being is outlawed sometimes.

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  So I watch the little girl leave with her father, and I find myself hoping my heart out for a stranger. Hoping that the little girl does not lose that incentive, that joyous liveliness, and that she never sells it to the evil lurking in the future.