Wanderlust

Lucy was sitting on the grass, her hands cupping her knees. She felt so small. Rupert was gone. Gone! Or was it her who had disapeared? The sky was still grey, the afternoon lazy and the summer tempting. But Rupert had taken a plane to wherever and she hadn’t. Or maybe he had never been in F. Land and all was a monsterous error of her runaway imagination.
Travelling is a dangerous hobby. And not all the trips are in the open world. There are always dark continents to walk, adventures to live. But that uncertainty was killing her. Not knowing if she was dead or alive, even alive or in love.
The mirror didn't shown her image. She began to think Rupert had taken her with him, leaving just a footprint behind. A ghost. Sick with love.
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