Chatterbox: Inkwell

She staggered into her old home, looking around. In short, it was bewildering. New faces ran about in the streets, all calling to one another happily.

They didn't know. It was better that way, she knew, but it still hurt not to have her and her friends' names called out instead. These new neighbors, should have been her friends too.

But instead, she had chosen to tear up her roots, and try and hide her broken heart again. She had to drop by, and say hello. Ask how everyone was doing.

And make it alright. If she just came back once; not to stay, but to say hello, to make it feel better. It still hurt, that much was obvious.

It would never stop hurting, but some things might deaden the pain a little; rust the edge of the sword. Some things like extending a hand in friendship once more. With some, she had already.

But she had to extend this to the place, too. They would welcome her back, it was true. But they had rebuilt without her, and it felt so, very different.

Now, she was ready to make peace, and lay all of the old ghosts of the pasts to rest. And with that, she stood up on the soapbox, and yelled, "So, how are you all doing?"