She bent down to tie her shoe as the sun was setting. The reflection of the pinkish-yellow ball was right in front of her at the edge of the lake. The pebbles beneath her feet were wet and smooth. The umbrella she brought with her, still resting on her beach towel by the tree.

With many thoughts in her head, Chelsea folded up her umbrella and tucked it beneath her arm, rolling up her damp towel and stuffing her towel into her drawstring bag.

Today was a good day, she thought. She could get through this day. Days at the lake would help her through. Her new bathingsuit made her feel slightly better, as did the time alone at Walker Lake. If only days at the lake could be every day; it would get her through the rest of the hard days.

There would be good days and bad days, and today, at the lake was good; she was still completely alone in the world, not a soul that knew her name, and she, likewise, and those days would be the worst, where she felt most lonely. The sun finished setting, and she left the lake to go home. Wherever that was.