She sat there sobbing into her already damp hands, her tears flowed off of her palms like rain from the clouds. She looked up ever so often to see if anyone was there, just waiting for a sign. Just hoping that somebody would turn around and walk back into the now desolate room. Like the moon waits on the sun, she waited to be dried up. Soaked up by anything that she could.
She felt like her day would never come, her day of recognition, of appreciation. She had been sitting in the same place so long just waiting, praying, for a change. She felt so weak, so so thimble. Her knees buckled and her lips quivered. She could barely keep her eyes open because of the blistering size and tenderness that surrounded them.
Though she was the only one left in the room and the lights had all faded, she continued to stand her ground. Through the cracks in her fingertips and between each glistening tear, she could see the slightest sliver of hope, and hope was the very thing that kept her there.
- Natalie A. Chapman