Thread: Take Home Daughter [solace x Zajawa]

Name Linda Harris Age 36 Height 5'11 or about 180 cm Hair Dark Red Eyes Light Brown Occupation Artist and owner of her own gallery which houses some of the best artwork from new and rising artists. People often see her as the serious, get down to business, type of woman, but those who have been close and intimate with her can see the softer side of her personality. It was the kind of cold that can chill you to your bones if you stayed out for too long. For most people in the city, jackets were becoming the norm, even though the fog of a warm breath could yet be seen. Linda knew of this bitter cold and she hated it. Her black leggings barely provided enough warmth for her, but what was covered by her knee high boots were enough to keep them from getting chilled. She wore a red sweater that ended at the waist and a pair of sunglasses so the bright sun wouldn't blind her as she walked. In one hand she held the most important thing, a cup of coffee, still steaming with the heat that would sustain her for the walk from her house to the Gallery where she was expected to meet with a new artist and discuss the possibility of debuting some of his work there. In the other hand, the second most important thing, a cake donut that would give her the sugar high to stay awake from such a boring meeting. Nestled between her fingers holding the donut, was a white paper bag. The owner of the donut shop always gave her a bag of the donut holes. What else were they going to do with it? Linda walked along the sidewalk that split. The path on the right would take her over the bridge where she would have to wait on heavy morning traffic to finish, or take the left path which led directly under the bridge. This was used primarily for cyclist and joggers, but it did allow her navigate around traffic. As she passed under the bridge, Linda saw 'her'. A girl, not quite a woman but very close. She was sitting on the concrete with her back resting on the wall. Linda had seen many homeless in her life, but this was the first that one appeared to her so young. She felt a little sympathy for the girl. What could have happened in her life that would force her to endure such a hardship? She was ready to walk past the girl when she remembered the bag in her hand. She stopped a few steps away, the clicking of her boots stopped dead with no echo. She turned and walked up to the girl. Even with the girl sitting, Linda could tell she was far taller, but that was the way she was. She was taller, by nature, than most of the people she worked with and what few romances she had in the past were much the same. Linda knelt down next to the girl and offered the white bag. Here...take care, was all she said before she walked away. THE NEXT DAY The cold was still the same and that meant Linda was going to hate walking to the Gallery. The meeting from yesterday worked out and now preparations needed to be arranged. She stopped by the donut shop, picking up something light with coffee, and was handed yet another bag of donut holes. Then the walk to the Gallery resumed. She took the same path and went under the same bridge and there was the girl again. This time, Linda stopped before she reached the girl. Poor thing. She walked up to her, knelt down and handed the bag of donut holes to her. She walked away, but when she was clear of the bridge she looked back. Over the next few days, Linda had come to expect the girl to be there under the bridge. At first it was donut holes, but after she began to assume the girl would be there, she picked up something more. Every morning she brought with her a bag of sausages wrapped in a croissant and a bottle of milk, something get some protein into the girl. The meetings were quick and silent. It wasn't like she didn't want to say something, she just didn't know what to say. How do you start a conversation with a homeless girl? A week passed and it only grew colder. Linda didn't have to go to the Gallery that day, but her mind was plagued with thoughts of the girl under the bridge. If she didn't bring her food, then who would? Even though she didn't need to go out, she left the comfort of her house and went straight to the bridge. She found the girl there, but she did not bring food this time. She stopped in front of the girl and she could see her breath through the cold morning. Even Linda was beginning to feel the cold underneath her leggings. What's your name? she asked, although it probably sounded a little harsh the way she phrased it. She took off her sunglasses and looked directly at the girl. She noticed that the girl didn't even have a jacket. The sight broke her heart further. Listen...it's freezing out here and you'll catch a cold. Do you have a jacket or anything? No. That much was obvious from her previous observation. She was just hoping. Linda knelt down and held her hand towards the girl. Here, take my hand. There's a store just across the street. I can get you a jacket and you won't have to worry about paying me back. How does that sound?