DESERTED STREET
CHAPTER SEVENTY-FOUR: DESERTED STREET
RHEA'S POV
The wind blew over my hair, against my hair, pulling strands of it from their rightful place by the side of my face to the front of my face, blurring my vision slightly, forcing me to take breaks from just walking to brush it away from my face and tuck it behind my ears. Stubbornly, it always found a way back to its favorite spot; the front of my face, close to or in front of my eyes. The dance was getting really annoying, the way the wind was interfering with me just being able to be.
I groaned in frustration even though I was not really sure what I was getting frustrated and angry at. Was it nature? Was I getting angry at nature for fulfilling its purpose and bringing a windy evening? Or was I angry at something more deep rooted, something I really don't want to admit to being angry at? Something that makes me feel weak and pathetic and stupid.
I sighed and plucked off a small flower from the tiny bush by the side. I humored myself by

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