TWENTY - ONE

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I think it's fresh air that I'm breathing in.

I feel the breeze against my cheeks as I fumble with the windbreaker that was in Ki's trunk. I simply press the large book of medical disorders to my chest as I look to the bus that sits in the parking lot.

They tell me I can stay in a facility for now, but I just want to stand here for hours; I want to breath in the chill air and stare at the sky that is a light shade of indigo, splattered with streaks of lavender and yellow.

It's different than the clean white I have been staring up to for the past month.

I think it's a good different.

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