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Description
There she stood at the corner. A streetlight just above gave her an unearthly glow about her. It was a quite winter night. The wind was blowing ever so slightly, gently brushing her hair. Not a cloud in the sky though the moon seemed to shining brighter just for her. Her long rain coat covered her just lose at the waist, jeans poking out at the bottom. It would seem almost as if she were frozen there, were it not for the slight motion of her chest and eyes. Eyes that searched the blackness of the night. Search her eyes did for any sign of a figure tall and silent. For you see she is waits for this figure to come and rescue her. Though she is strong and willful, she is still lost. So she waits for the figure… She waits for him… her knight. She is no damsel by any means of the imitation. Yet still she waits. Then in the umbra of the black there is movement. She holds her breath but at lass it was but a cat looking for its midnight meal. For unbeknownst to her in the shadow lurking just behind her was the one she sought. He smiled walking almost silently, but his foot falls were heard. She whirled ready to fight, fire in her eyes, but after falling upon his face her own lit up. Breathlessly much like a sigh of relief she spoke "Will". With a beaming smile the young man whispered "Sammie". And with these few words they embraced. She leaned in to him. She was home.

Description
There she stood at the corner. A streetlight just above gave her an unearthly glow about her. It was a quite winter night. The wind was blowing ever so slightly, gently brushing her hair. Not a cloud in the sky though the moon seemed to shining brighter just for her. Her long rain coat covered her just lose at the waist, jeans poking out at the bottom. It would seem almost as if she were frozen there, were it not for the slight motion of her chest and eyes. Eyes that searched the blackness of the night. Search her eyes did for any sign of a figure tall and silent. For you see she is waits for this figure to come and rescue her. Though she is strong and willful, she is still lost. So she waits for the figure… She waits for him… her knight. She is no damsel by any means of the imitation. Yet still she waits. Then in the umbra of the black there is movement. She holds her breath but at lass it was but a cat looking for its midnight meal. For unbeknownst to her in the shadow lurking just behind her was the one she sought. He smiled walking almost silently, but his foot falls were heard. She whirled ready to fight, fire in her eyes, but after falling upon his face her own lit up. Breathlessly much like a sigh of relief she spoke "Will". With a beaming smile the young man whispered "Sammie". And with these few words they embraced. She leaned in to him. She was home.