Traces Of Memory

PHOEBE stands by the side of the road, a backpack stuffed full of items at her feet. She is past the first bloom of life, facing the long decline into middle adulthood. She wears jeans, a dark vest over a lightweight plaid shirt not tucked in. She bends down, digs through backpack, finds a broken candy bar, begins to eat it. Phoebe enjoys every last bite.