The wind blows through hair that was so carefully constructed, seeming to tear away at its unnatural rigidity. Sunglasses protect the eyes that have seen far too much, yet they do not shield from seeing more. As the summer air gusts through the open window into the car, the humidity becomes almost crippling. But, she needs this fresh air more than anything else. After the oppression her lungs have faced, she needs to free them.
There is nothing but countryside ahead, a stark contrast to the Draconian architecture that was her life. Though she finds this retreat banal and overly sentimental, a deep childish yearning burns in the pit of her stomach. A quiet and impatient yearning for a cure to the human condition.
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