Ode to the Independent Lady
She sets out across the smallest of spaces. A simple sidewalk made into a desolate rough wasteland. Every uneven crevice a dangerous chasm to traverse, every stony pebble a crumbling boulder to skirt.
Where is she going? She honestly does not know. This should worry her, but all she feels is the cool breeze brushing her hard shell. She has left all her friends and family behind in the lush green stems of countless flowers in their endless variety of purples, reds, and yellows. But it’s her determination that will conquer any danger. It is dangerous. She must take precautions against being exposed to bird and feet of unwary children as she travels through the desolate waste of the open spaces. Those vast spaces of artificial rock and dust, testaments to the power of some unseen force on a scale that was unfathomable to her or her friends.
Friends. Friends that told her not to go. Told her not to venture from the safety of the foliage. But she had to leave, she had to go see what new world lay on the other side of that barren wasteland. What adventures would there be when she made it to the other side of the sidewalk? There simply must be something better over there. There simply must be.
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