Lindsey feels, in these moments, a cruel winter wind blow over her for the first time since she can remember. A harshness, a gritty wind that one could only expect from a world that doesn't want them there.
Where that may be over-dramatic, one doesn't confuse the feelings of the heart often, and who was Lindsey Howell if not an unwanted child, the orphan of the world, a street urchin who never realized that the world wasn't her playground until now. He had on her mother's jacket, not letting her mind dwell on the sentiment and memories that this jacket carries for her. She stands on a barren sidewalk in front of a community center that no one would care about if it weren't for Russell Price. She had stolen her way over here from an unexpectedly empty theater. Her pants, thin and skinny jeans that are somewhat flattering, just barely fail to cover up her ankles, and in this moment, her ankles are all her mind feels. The part of us that is cold or in pain is the one that never