This is the 85th installment of a 100-day challenge to write a new vignette every morning.
Not all people who wander are lost—but Addison definitely was. Hadn’t she already passed this Starbucks?
She knew, now, that she shouldn’t have gone off on her own. Sneaking out was one thing. Running around with a fake ID was another. But sneaking out and running around with a fake ID alone? She could almost hear the thumping of her mother’s heart.
No, that was her own.
The night crept toward midnight, then past it, and she walked the same blocks over and over. She chastised herself: It was a grid system. How could she have gotten lost? Knowing the streets didn’t matter if you didn’t know the streets.
Her phone had died hours ago; Google Maps and Uber would do her absolutely no good, and even if her friends bothered to look for her—they wouldn’t—they’d have no way to contact her.
She settled on a bench below a streetlight. The sun had to rise soon, and the subway would open again, and she’d go home. It was all fine, and it’d all be fine. She tapped the arm of the bench and focused on the rhythm.
Despite everything, she found the city peaceful. She’d never seen it so quiet.
Miles Away 