It had been such a long time, but Amy still loved the charm of Central Park. She was sitting on a bench with a journal, observing the people wandering around, with a girlfriend or a dog, or their families. She spied a girl, a little girl, looking around. Amy wrote -
"girl with the blue eyes"
Amy tried to catch her gaze, but the girl looked away. She looked lost. Amy frowned, pushing herself off the bench with a grunt. Her breathing was already laboured from that small effort. Sometimes she missed being young and vibrant and always ready to run. But it had been almost sixty years since she had traveled on the TARDIS. She had long since made her peace.
"Hi, honey? Are you lost?" The blonde girl looked up, probably no more than seven years old. She nodded. "I'm Amy. Can you tell me your name?" The girl looked unsure, taking a deep breath.
"I'm Maya. I'm not actually lost. I'm running away." Amy knit her eyebrows together, looking into Maya's eyes. Maya was a common way, there was no way this was her.
"Maya what?"
"Maya Penelope Hart?"
