In Thalia’s apartment there was a map. Within this map there were a wide assortment of colourful pins that indicated every single country she’d visited. The colours of the pins cast rainbows that reminded her of the terrains she’d trekked and the people she’d met but the rainbows flags cast from every window and bar reminded her that people were proud. People would defend who they were and they’d embrace it. She’d only done Orlando pride twice and Philadelphia pride when she was a child but the one parade she’d enjoyed the most had been in San Francisco. Music had blared. Bodies had moved. Drinks had flowed. And then she’d left and taken memories with her. So maybe that was why she hid in the corner of the bar, her drink clutched to her chest as she stared over at the one thing that reminded her more of California than palm trees and ferris wheels on boardwalks. But Thalia had still left. Just left when she needed more. But now they were both here and Thalia couldn’t resist the opportunity to seize life. Blowing out a breath and draining her drink, she moved across the busy room, unable to plan her process as she went. Should she surprise the other? Pop up in front of her? She settled for a middle ground and approached her from the side, lifting her hand to touch her shoulder. “Who knew we’d bump in to each other here, Doc...” @sage-durand
