She ran her left hand through the grass beneath her, feeling the small blades softly bend between each finger and stand upright again, like short hairs on a head. The setting sun cast its bending beams over the hillside as she twirled a small flower she had picked up on her way up the hill that smelled of the sweetness of autumn. The orange sky tinted her dress with the color of the evening as she folded her hands in her lap and raised her head to gaze upon the horizon.
Soon the sun would set, and Night would cast her darkened blanket over the earth and scatter diamonds across the seamless quilt of the sky. The wisps of clouds elongated with the light wind, like scattered hair over the vault of the heavens neatly arranged by the dying Day. The pain of the girl's memories would fade with the dimming light, with her mind refreshed by the cooling air breezing by her head.
She didn't need him anymore, and the thought of being free filled her entire being with a jolt of excitement that would seem to spawn endless peace. The flower she held in her lap began to soften, and she set it off to her right near the folds of her dress.
Breathing in deeply the evening air, she smiled a smile that smirked of independence. She crossed her legs and set her bare feet in front of her in a small patch of taller grass that slightly tickled her feet, mixing the smile of independence with the joyful flutter of a small child's heart.
Rising from the flattened hair of the earth, she brushed off the dried blades of grass that had stuck to the backside of her dress. She bent down and picked up the wilting flower from the ground where she sat. "Come now, little flower," the girl whispered, "it's time to go home." And she skipped down the hill in the setting sun.