Trees in the dark.

It’s getting late, she thinks, maybe a little too late, but something is pulling her towards the park, several streets from her apartment, a whole neighborhood or two away, but she knows that she will go nevertheless. She can feel it, a pleasant buzz is all that she can understand, her whole body hums with the desire to just be there. She knows that she will be, and she can not wait.

Nobody will stop her. Her parents are either home or not home, she does not care much, since they won’t be stopping her from going to a far-away park in the middle of night by herself, being just ten years old. They are not concerned with her, nothing ever happens to her, they seem to think she neither exists nor non-exists. As the only child, she is just there, one day happened upon their lives and no doubt it will just be that way always.

Not that Ming minds. She much prefers to keep to herself, for after all, there is so much of herself to be content with. One part of her now stands silently in this park that she is looking forward to venture into, to which she will be rejoining in utter bliss for maybe half an hour or an eternity, then bid that part of her goodbye with all the tenderness of a fresh young lover on her first taste of the eternal life. Then for the whole of the next day, she will know contentment as only a lucky few has ever felt before. She knows that to be true, for not only does that union give her the sense of purpose, it also gives her the ultimate gift: the appreciation of her very life.

She senses are sharpened in the darkness. There are no lights in the ancient, slightly tilting brick building in which her parents’ apartment is part of.

To be continued…

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