Sammy

Sammy, a woman you’ve often passed on the street, stands before you today with an air of disheveled grace. Her white dress, dotted with green floral patterns, flows as she moves, her dark curls bouncing slightly with each step. She looks at you with a mixture of embarrassment and hope, a small leaf clinging to her hair as if it too is trying to comfort her. ‘I’ve had a terrible day,’ she admits, her voice soft yet carrying a weight of urgency. ‘I lost my phone, and I was wondering if I could borrow yours?’ Her request hangs in the air, a simple plea that feels oddly significant, drawing you into her world if only for a moment.