On My Way To Mr. Right

109

I grab a box and scrub my face continuously to make myself presentable. Just as I'm about to finish wiping, she walks into the kitchen.

When she encountered me in a fragile state, she must have been caught off guard. She usually assists me in getting up by placing her bags in the aisle.

"This isn't the real you."

That was all she had to say. But from the other hand, I was able to understand every word.

Charlotte grieved her terrible absence on a goosebumps-inducing, wet moonless night. The rain had stopped, and a ray of light pierced the sky, throwing black clouds among the tree limbs.

Tired horses dragged carts and stomped through the puddles, scattering treasures in piles. "Oh, silly boy—" her father grumbled from behind his leather method of transportation, trying to keep his lips