Rhythm gripped the ends of her own sleeves tightly. Her blouse was black, ironically fitting to her thoughts. There was only so long she could take of trying to forget before something reminded her. The past... It wasn't something that she liked to think about. She couldn't think about it. And yet something always made her think about it.
Like here. She had moved completely away from everything and everyone she knew, in a kind of escape. But even here she saw things that made her think of those events...