it's friday

She leaned against the mop and looked out the window.

Same old dust. Same old town. Same old world.

As she pulled and pushed, sweeping the murky water across the floor, an image flew into her mind. The image of a little girl, straggles of goldenness escaping from her braid, mopping the floor of the local coffee shop. 

And yeah, it was her.

Yet, it sounds like something else. 

The little blondie propped her chin up on that old mop and realized she was a story.

The wind outside kicked up gently, stirring the dirt roads with a gentle finger, and she watched, hope growing warm in her heart.

Because if she was a story, this could only be the first couple of pages.

And everyone knows that all good stories start with little girls mopping floors, looking out windows at a big old world. 

Every few seconds, she would look at the door, expecting her adventures to slam it open, kiss her on the cheek, and bring her away.

But the door didn't open.

It didn't even quiver.

The little girl blinked away her dreams and kept mopping.

All stories must start somewhere.

They must start in the same old dust. In the same old town. In the same old world.

But that's only the beginning for a girl like her.

Now, her adventures may be very different from any that she hopes for. There may be no handsome strangers and escapes and perfect days.

But this is a story.

And this is how it starts.

With a mop, a bucket of dirty water, and a galaxy burdened girl.

♥

xoxo