Northern_Lights_2017

8 541-802 Meghan C. Conn Walking South the wind at my back It keeps pushing me onward. I stop to watch the cars speed by. Do they see me? In the dark I look up to the sky. No stars. There is still light on every corner shining down on me. Some days I like it here. Others I can’t wait to leave. Back to the silence. Back to where I belong. Home. No street signs. No stoplights. No sirens. No fear. Only the silence, the stillness, the stars. I Need To Be At Home Now. At home. From where I came. Where everybody knows my name. But now, I’m here. I don’t know Anybody. Four days in, I said, “I like your shirt.” She looked up. The first person to smile at me. In that moment, I knew I could make it. I’d survive. Nearly two years. I’m still here. I’ve made it five hundred forty-one days. Walking North. The wind in my hair. It keeps pushing me backwards. But I continue to fight it. I know that I’ll make it eight hundred and two more.