"Every new beginning comes from some other beginning's end."
~Seneca
Rain was one of her least favorite things, and yet here she was standing out in the rain like a moron, waiting for something to happen. The cold autumn air froze her bones. She shivered and pulled her drenched jacket tighter. How did she keep getting herself into these messes? She pondered this question silently.
It would be too simple and too indulgent to say she had bad luck. There had to be something more to it. Her entire life she had held firm in the belief that every human had been given some purpose to better the world and its people. So what was hers?
She thought she knew...but then-
Lights flickered on inside the building. She could hear voices, but they sounded far away. Maybe this whole experience had been some kind of dream, and everyone in the world was just asleep. Maybe that was what death was, waking up from a long slumber. It seemed more poetic than fading into non-existence.
"You! What do you think you're doing there?"
She lifted her head slowly and stared at the voices who were calling to her through the gate.
She took a deep breath and opened her mouth to speak.
The rain continued to fall.