Rose left the café and looked through the large window. The boy was attending to a customer with the same calm he'd had with her, even smiling softly as he spoke.
The streets were full of movement: cars, hurried footsteps, phones glowing like small panels of light among the crowd. Rose ran her hands over her face, trying to clear the confusion swirling in her head.
"The sky... the sky... Tch," she whispered, frustrated. "I can't even see it from here..."
She looked up, but the tall buildings blocked most of the blue.
"God... I look stupid doing this..." she murmured, turning back toward the café, her hand brushing the doorknob. Rose stood there for a second, she could see him through the glass, serving coffee with that calm that drove her crazy. "I'm not giving him the satisfaction of asking again," she thought. And she let go of the knob.
"Maybe if I walk around here... I might be able to see the sky better..." she finally said, taking steps that echoed against the pavement—but she stopped dead. A spark of clarity crossed her mind.
"Oh! See the sky?" she murmured.
Her head began reviewing possible places, one by one: interiors discarded immediately.
"So... Any place that has a sky could be a candidate... Think, Rose.. Think..." she whispered as she walked without a fixed direction. Her feet seemed to know something her head ignored.
"The park?"
A bus passed beside her, exhaling a cloud of black smoke. Rose coughed, moving aside.
"What if it's a street I've forgotten?"
A woman with a shopping cart brushed against her as she passed. The cart was full of oranges. Mica liked oranges. Or were they tangerines?
"What if it's on a rooftop that's now closed?"
The traffic light turned green. People started crossing. Rose did too, without really knowing if she was coming or going.
"What about the key?"
A child pointed at the sky. Rose looked up by inertia. A plane. It left a white trail. Mica and she saw a trail once. Where was that?
"What if it's the mountain we climbed together?"
No. We never climbed mountains. Or did we? No. Yes. Once.
"The beach?"
A street vendor shouted: "Fresh water!" His voice sounded raspy, tired.
"What if it's the lighthouse?"
A dog barked behind a gate. Rose startled. The dog's owner looked at her strangely. Rose kept walking.
"Why doesn't she just call me?"
She reached into her pocket. Her phone was there. The screen, off. No one was calling. No one had called in...
"Did she forget I don't have her number anymore?"
Or maybe she forgot hers. Maybe she had it and deleted it. Why would she do that?
"How long will she wait for me?"
The leaves on the trees moved with the breeze. Shadow, light, shadow, light. The constant flickering made her dizzy.
"Only until nightfall?"
Two girls passed by her, laughing. One said to the other: "I promise you." Rose stopped dead. She watched them walk away, arms around each other, not looking back.
"What if I run out of time?"
Her fingers trembled. She put them in her pocket and touched the letter. The paper felt hot. Or maybe it was her hand that burned. She couldn't tell.
"What if I don't find her in time?"
A man bumped into her. "Excuse me," he said. Rose didn't respond. She kept walking.
"Will she come back for me?"
The buildings were starting to get lower. The sky should be more visible. But the ground was deeper.
"Will she think I never want to see her again?"
A white butterfly crossed in front of her eyes. It fluttered for a moment and landed on a leaf.
"Why didn't she just come to my apartment?"
Mica loved butterflies. Or did she hate them? No. She loved them.
"Does she hate me?"
If she hated you, she wouldn't be looking for you in the first place.
"Maybe she wants me to apologize?"
How many times did you fail her?
"Is that why she isn't looking for me?"
She wants to know if you're worth the effort.
"But what did I do?"
Her foot stepped on a branch—the crack. That sound. She remembered it. Mica stepped hard, making it crack on purpose.
"Did she forget?"
A group of children ran after a ball. One shouted: "Mine!" Mine. Mi-ca. M i c a.
"But... the letter...?"
Rose pressed the paper against her leg, inside her pocket.
"What if...?"
"Hey! Hey! Miss!"
A voice brought her back to the world.
"Huh? Oh... Yes? What do you need, sir?" Rose blinked. She was in the middle of the sidewalk. People flowed around her like water around a stone.
It was a middle-aged man. He was in a hurry. His face slightly annoyed. He held a briefcase against his chest.
"Could you move? You're blocking the way."
Rose looked around. People were dodging her. Some annoyed, others indifferent. She had been still. She didn't remember stopping.
"Oh...! Yes... I'm sorry, excuse me..."
She quickly moved aside, pressing herself against a building wall. The man passed without looking at her. The stream of pedestrians kept flowing.
Rose leaned her back against the cold wall. She breathed deeply. Too deeply. The air burned her lungs.
Sigh. "I have to start somewhere... but where...?" she thought.
"I'll just go to the closest one... The park... Yes... that bench where we sat had nice views..." she murmured, rubbing her hands against her face. Her head was going a thousand miles an hour.
Around her, the city flowed with indifference. A bus exhaled a cloud of black smoke right in front of her; Rose held her breath and quickened her pace to escape that smell of diesel and burnt rubber. A woman with a shopping cart brushed against her as she passed, muttering something about the price of fruit. On the corner, a street vendor hawked his wares with a hoarse voice, worn out from repeating the same words.
A little further ahead, the ground changed: the gray tiles gave way to a stretch of old cobblestone, uneven, where pedestrians' heels stumbled. Rose remembered that Mica used to say that ground was "the stretch where cities show their age." She said it once, pointing at the stones.
And finally, in the distance, she saw the park. It wasn't far now... The shadows of the trees moved slowly with the breeze, and Rose noticed how the sunlight filtered through the leaves, drawing shapes on the ground that seemed to point her toward an invisible path. Her heart pounded hard with the feeling that something might be waiting for her there.
Upon reaching the park, there were people walking along the paths, some with dogs, others pushing strollers or simply sitting on the grass. A group of children ran after a ball near the entrance. The ducks in the lake quacked occasionally, moving lazily on the water.
Rose walked slowly, looking around. She followed the gravel path that bordered the lake. The sound of her steps mixed with the murmur of the water and the creak of branches moving with the wind.
"I think it was around here..." she murmured.
A couple of benches came into view. She recognized one almost immediately: light wood, a little worn at the edges, placed right in front of the lake. Nearby was a small sign asking not to feed the ducks too much.
"Yes..." she whispered. "It was this one."
She sat down slowly. The lake was calm. Some ducks swam in lazy circles near the shore. One of them shook its wings and splashed water, breaking the smooth surface for a moment.
Rose rested her elbows on her knees and looked at the water. An enormous number of memories passed through her head.
Breadcrumbs on her fingers.
Someone's laughter beside her.
The sound of ducks fighting over food.
"No, that one's mine..."
"Don't give them so much."
Someone beside her was protesting softly. Rose could remember it. The playful tone of that complaint...
"If you spoil them, tomorrow more will come."
"See? They're already coming."
Rose slowly opened her eyes.
She looked at the lake.
Someone beside her was throwing a crumb too far.
The ducks clumsily swam away, chasing it.
"Hey, that doesn't count. Anyone could win like that."
Rose frowned slightly.
She tried to imagine the face that accompanied those words.
Nothing.
Just a presence.
Rose looked down at her hands.
"You used to sit right here..." she murmured, touching the space on the bench next to her.
That shadow leaned forward to look at the ducks more closely.
"Mica..." she repeated, now looking among the trees.
She looked at the lake again.
The ducks kept swimming calmly.
Rose took a deep breath.
"Mica..."
The name came out soft, almost carefully.
"If you're here..." she said, looking around. "If you're really here..."
Her voice trembled a little.
"...please find me.."
Nothing.
The wind moved the leaves of the trees.
Rose could remember the conversation from that day.
She remembered they had talked about silly things.
About a boring class.
About a song that had gotten stuck in one of their heads.
"I can't believe you like that song."
"It's good."
"No, it isn't."
"Yes, it is."
Rose pressed her fingers against the bench.
"Your voice..."
She tried to hear it again.
Any fragment that would connect her to her.
Rose closed her eyes tightly.
She tried something simpler.
Her smile.
But it was like trying to focus on something always just out of reach.
She opened her eyes.
The bench beside her was empty.
Rose swallowed.
"Mica..." she said, a little louder.
The name got lost among the park sounds.
No one reacted.
A child threw a stone into the lake.
The ducks moved away.
A distant jingle was heard in the background.
"Mica!"
The name came out louder and louder, over and over.
The park remained the same. Children ran. Ducks swam. And Rose felt that her voice hadn't left her throat. That everything—the bench, the lake, the trees—would still be there even if she disappeared.
"Maybe..." she murmured.
She looked at the bench.
"What am I doing...?" she murmured, feeling heat rise to her face.
Maybe not on this bench.
Maybe it wasn't this lake.
Maybe she isn't here now.
Maybe it wasn't even this park.
Maybe it wasn't even in this city.
She stopped. An uncomfortable sensation settled in her stomach. She looked around more carefully. The trees cast long shadows on the grass. The leaves moved in a dizzying way.
That's when she saw it.
Under one of the trees near the lake, someone was sitting against the trunk, looking at the water. The tree's shadow completely covered their face.
Rose stood still.
Her heart started beating faster.
"...Mica...?"
The figure didn't respond.
Rose walked toward her.
First slowly.
Then a little faster.
"Mica?"
The person kept looking at the lake.
Now she could see it was a girl.
Rose's heart pounded harder and harder.
"Mica... it's me..."
When she reached her side, she extended her hand and gently touched the girl's hand.
"Ah!"
The girl jumped and turned her face, surprised. She had a notebook on her lap and a pencil between her fingers. Her face was serene, almost thoughtful, with dark brown eyes that seemed to absorb light, blinking with a mix of surprise and curiosity.
"Uh... yes?"
Rose quickly withdrew her hand.
"I'm sorry," she said. "I thought you were someone else."
The girl blinked a couple of times.
"Ah... it's okay."
She looked back at the lake.
Rose let out a slow sigh.
"I'm really sorry."
"It's nothing," she replied.
Embarrassed, Rose looked at the notebook. There were some lines drawn, as if she were trying to sketch something, but it didn't look finished.
"Are you drawing?"
"Trying to."
"The lake?" Rose asked.
The girl stopped moving her pencil.
"No, the sky."
Rose turned her head slightly, trying to find a shape in those strokes, and could only discern what seemed to be clouds.
"Then why are you looking at the lake?"
The girl pointed at the lake with her pencil, and Rose followed her gaze.
"The sky is there," the girl mentioned. "If I look up..."
She raised her head, and Rose automatically followed her gaze.
The light fell directly into her eyes.
"Ah..." Rose immediately closed her eyes and lowered her head.
"God, that was stupid... but—" She blinked several times until the brightness stopped burning her eyes, and noticed that the girl was still looking upward, calm, without covering her eyes. "Doesn't it... bother you?" she added.
The girl looked down at her.
"What thing?"
"The sun," Rose replied.
The girl looked back at the sky.
"I don't see anything," she said.
The girl looked back at the lake.
"That's why I use the reflection in the lake."
Rose looked at the lake, trembling with a small ripple. Rose could hear the distant sound of a plane in the distance, could even imagine the white trail of smoke it left behind, but when she looked in the water, there was nothing—just the blue, a flat color occupying the entire reflection.
"Something else should be visible..." Rose murmured to herself. "...Has it always looked like this?" she added.
Rose looked up again by instinct.
The sun hit her directly in the eyes again.
"Ah—" she complained, immediately lowering her head.
"You should stop doing that. You could really hurt yourself," said the girl, her pencil tracing on the page.
"Yeah... yeah..." Rose said while rubbing her eyes. She looked at her again, more carefully. She wore simple clothes: a long-sleeved black shirt, a little loose, and a dark skirt that reached her knees. The sleeves were slightly wrinkled near the wrists, stained with small traces of graphite. Beside her, leaning against the tree trunk, was a cloth backpack that looked as worn as her notebook.
"Do you always draw here?" Rose asked after a moment.
The girl kept moving her pencil, tracing soft lines barely visible from where Rose was.
"I come here every day without fail. It's the best place where I can see the sky. What about you? Is this your first time at this park? I've never seen you in all the years I've been coming here."
"Uh... not really... I used to..." Rose replied, tilting her head.
"I see..." said the girl, her eyes looking at the sketch and the lake intermittently
That girl's eyes seemed lost in her thoughts even when looking at the lake.
"Everything okay?" Rose said as she sat on the grass.
"No, not really," she said while erasing part of the page. "Something's always missing," she added with frustration.
Rose looked at the notebook.
"Maybe you just need more practice."
"No... I just can't anymore," she replied.
Rose looked at her strokes and then at her. Her hair fell straight to just below her shoulders, dark, with some disheveled strands the breeze moved slightly.
"It must be... exhausting to draw..." Rose replied.
The wind moved the leaves again; a small ripple crossed the lake. The girl slightly lifted the notebook to observe her own drawing, frowning just a little.
"It's not right..." she murmured to herself.
Rose looked at the notebook again. There were several curved lines, soft layers trying to form something like scattered clouds.
"They look... fine to me," Rose said with some doubt.
The girl gently shook her head.
"They're not."
She erased a small part of the drawing with quick movements. The paper left a gray smudge where the graphite had spread.
"So..." said Rose, "you used to be able to see the sky?"
The girl didn't respond immediately. Her pencil remained still on the page.
"Yes," she said after a moment. "I remember it had depth... spaces where the blue was darker... but little by little I stopped seeing it."
"I'm sorry to hear that... Did something happen for you to... end up like this?"
"I don't know... Sometimes I think it was my decision. Maybe I saw it one way and... it stopped being the same."
Her finger traced another line on the paper, harder this time.
"It frustrates me... A lot... I've been trying for years, and each time it turns out even worse... How am I supposed to be a good artist if I can't even draw the sky?" said the girl. Her hand trembled a little as she spoke.
Rose looked at her. Beneath the external calm of that girl, there was something that bent under the disappointment of not reaching what once came naturally. Rose looked at the liquid mirror of the lake. The color was still a flat, smooth blue. There were no clouds in it, but something in that flatness both attracted and repulsed her at the same time.
"Have you ever thought... about giving it up and trying something different...?" Rose asked in a small voice, regretting it the moment she said it.
The pencil suddenly stopped moving on the page.
"Sometimes," she admitted. "I feel like giving up everything. But then I come back and start another page. It's ridiculous, isn't it?" her voice seemed about to break.
"Hey... I didn't mean it that way...—"
"No... it's okay..." she sighed. "Don't worry... I'm sorry for acting like that..." said the girl, interrupting Rose. "I'm okay now..." she added.
There were several seconds of silence. Rose tried to find some words to comfort her, but every silent second that passed seemed to make it pointless... The girl leaned forward slightly to draw better on the notebook, but before doing so, she looked at Rose.
"By the way... Before, you mistook me for someone..."
"Ahh..." Rose scratched her head with slight embarrassment. "I was hoping to find someone here... her name is Mica."
"Did your friend used to come here too?" she asked.
"We used to come together years ago..." Rose said, her voice tinged with a hint of nostalgia. "We fed the ducks, talked about everything and nothing... I'm looking for her."
"I see... I've been here all day. Maybe I've seen her. What does she look like?" she asked with a genuine intention to help.
"Uhh... I appreciate it, but the truth is... many years have passed and..." she swallowed—"I can't remember her clearly... not even the shape of her hair..."
The girl looked up from her notebook. Her eyes met Rose's, attentive but calm, as if trying to understand without judging.
"That... is sad..." she finally said, softly, as if measuring each word. "I can understand it a little..." she added.
Rose closed her eyes for a moment and sighed hopefully.
"But I know she's come back for me. I know we'll meet again."
The girl showed a small smile at seeing Rose's determination, but it lasted only a few seconds when she returned her gaze to the lake.
"I envy you a little," she said, and her eyes looked at Rose.
"Why do you say that?" Rose replied, looking back at her, but those brown eyes had something that didn't felt quite right.
"At least you know there's something there. But me... sometimes I feel like the lake gives me back something that isn't the sky..."
Rose didn't know how to respond. The girl reached into her backpack and pulled out a stuffed animal, looking at it carefully. Rose watched her. In her eyes, something had changed, as if they were losing color and depth with each passing second.
"It's cute" Rose mentioned without looking at the stuffed animal, trying to create some conversation due to the sudden awkwardness.
"Yes... My mother gave it to me."
Rose looked at the stuffed animal. It was a small rabbit, with beige fur worn by the years. Its long, drooping ears had a softness that only constant use leaves. The girl held it with a mix of care and habit, like someone holding something that has been part of their life forever.
"You take good care of it, don't you? You must really love the gift..." Rose mentioned.
"Yes... it's the only thing I can do."
Both fell silent. Rose, with her arms hugging her legs, looked at the lake for a few seconds. She heard the sound of a page being torn and a notebook being gently closed.
"I guess not today either..." she got up from the ground. "I have to go... I don't have time anymore..." she added.
Rose blinked, a little disconcerted by the sudden change.
"Ah... sure," Rose replied, still sitting.
She watched as the girl gathered her things with calm movements, and how the breeze gently lifted some strands of her dark hair.
"Hey, you never told me your name," the girl mentioned.
"Rose... my name is Rose. And you?"
"Lia." She closed her eyes for a moment, letting the breeze touch her skin. "Thanks for being here with me today Rose." she added as she finished gathering her things.
"Will I see you again, Lia?"
Lia glanced sideways at her, her dark brown eyes showing a strange calm.
"I don't know. You could try coming by here tomorrow. Maybe you'll find me," she replied, with a barely audible sigh.
"I see... Take care, okay?" Rose replied.
Lia nodded slightly, as if accepting Rose's wish without promising anything. She put her backpack over her shoulder. She looked one last time at the lake and then began walking along the path. The park returned to its usual rhythm. The ducks kept swimming, and the sunlight drew shadows on the gravel.
As Lia walked away, Rose looked at the crumpled page she had left on the ground. Without thinking, she picked it up. Rose smoothed it against her leg and saw the incomplete clouds, the frustrated strokes. She looked at the lake again; she only saw a blue, indifferent and flat.
"Maybe this isn't the place... What time is it?" she thought.
Rose took her phone from her pocket and looked at the time. "12:20... It's noon..." she sighed. "How many more places do I have to visit?"
"I still have time..." she whispered.
Will continue later on! Prob next week ^^!