As she walked barefoot on the gravel and stones leading her away from the lapping shore of the lake she noticed that the skin on her legs was peeling. The arid summertime climate was drying out her water coated skin. Pausing in her track she used her thumb and forefinger to meticulously peel a piece of skin away from her calf like a sheet of tracing paper. She felt like a snake shedding its old skin.
Time moved so slowly. Or really fast. It never felt like time just moved the way she wanted it to. Distance made it harder. Harder for her to feel like she was enough. How could she be when the person who meant the world to her was a world away?