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I first saw you yesterday afternoon. I hid between a break in the rocks of the cliffside that had, embedded in it, an old road. It connected a nearby village, North, towards the city. The road had been split in two by a fading, thick white line. One way for cars travelling North and one way for cars travelling South. If you were to walk along the road, which I did each day, you would tuck your feet along the sandy path that had formed on either side of the road's perimeter. You would know that you could only walk where the cliffside protruded outwards, since the barrier on the cliff edge, over which there was a 50-foot drop, had mostly been destroyed.

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