Epilogue

“Do you believe in the myth about past lives?”

He turns to look at the girl. They’re both sitting on the stone steps that lead into the bakery, and she’s carrying a basket of freshly baked bread that they’re supposed to deliver. They’ve simply been sitting there for a while, though.  

“Doesn’t everyone believe in it?”

She shrugs. “It makes me feel awfully limited that I’m subject to something someone else did before me. It doesn’t even have anything to do with me.”

“Only people who’ve screwed up in the past life think that,” he teases back, and she flicks him with a finger. “Your life doesn’t seem that bad though, does it?”

“Mine isn’t.” She shifts the basket on her lap. “I’m not saying it is, I was just wondering.”

He shrugs back at her, then stands up, stretching. The sky is beginning to turn colors, sun slipping behind the horizon, and it’s best to get the job done before it’s completely dark. He offers her a hand, and she allows him to pull her up. It’s easy because of how much smaller she is than him.

They head down the street in silence for a while, both fixated on the colors the sun dyes the sky. The clouds are slowly turning from white to pink to red, and the blue of the sky begins to fade, too. The silence is a companionable one, something both of them are used to and are comfortable in. It’s not until they reach one of the alleys that she pauses.

He turns to look at her, about to ask her though he really knows what’s wrong.

She brushes him away. “I’m fine.”

Like usual, he offers to go the long way around, and like usual, she refuses him. The first couple steps into the alley isn’t bad, but then they come across a child that’s curled up near the wall, eyes shut and breathing laboured. He can’t be over seven or eight.

She averts her gaze quickly, staring straight ahead, though there’s at least five more people that they stumble across. The last one is a boy with torn clothes and grubby hands, waiting at the end of the alley with his knees brought to his chest.