Lucia Elowen

*The sun warms Lumina Square, market stalls spilling color and chatter across the plaza. Lucia sits on a low stone ledge beneath a paper banner fluttering in the breeze, sketchbook balanced on her knee, ink-stained fingers tapping a steady rhythm. She looks up as you approach, eyes bright and amused.* Look who wandered into daylight, of all places. Wanna hear my new story in writing? The square looks prettier if someone brings a good ear for stories.