Travelers pt 10

  "Walking, walking, it's just all I need to do, and I keep going and stop for pointless things! I really need to keep going. All of this, just can't go to waste..." As Ali said while trying to continue her path to her glory. She's been continuing. It's day 2.

  Ali walked on the road, fully stocked, fully armed with a trusty rifle. The dust was blowing hard, she tried to reflect them, no luck, she stopped periodically to take out dust and move on, later presumed and the wind calmed down. All of the winds breezed instead, making it a bit easier to move on. Without knowing exactly where to go, she knew to give some caves a chance, well, if they didn't have any noises or growls.


  Walking along the roads, keeping out for a new place to stay, there wasn't time to waste, and definitely no time to talk. Her eyes were partially peeled due to all the dirt, but also towards the black holes on mountains. Which may lead to just burrows of strange mutations, caches, raiders, that kinda stuff. Most of it looked empty, even from far away, but it's still time to keep walking towards the direction of her path.

  She stumbled towards a rundown shack looking like it was used as a home to someone, someone lonely. She walked inside only finding a lone skeleton, beside him, a book, fairly burned, the authors name was still legible and in contact, "Vlad D. Alexe" sounded pretty cool, she picked up the book, opened it, the pages were almost ash, some of the poetry was intact, she flipped the book gently, hoping it doesn't fall apart, and reading the back saying,"A poet is a nightingale, who sits in darkness and sings to cheer its own solitude with sweet sounds." - P.B. Shelley.

  She read it, and suddenly feeling inside and she saw the lone skeleton,"who sits in the darkness."
  The man, for one, had a burned out lamp next to him, paper around his body, and an old pencil, he was a poet. Ali felt she needed to finally let go of stuff in the past, let the anger out, take a deep breath, and move on.
  A crow from behind had scared her, instead of pulling the rifle, she just accepted it, smiled, and moved, she never felt so happy before.

  She walked along the road with a smile,
 

"Getting over a painful experience is much like crossing monkey bars. You have to let go at some point in order to move forward." ~Victor Hugo