I think it's fresh air that I'm breathing in.
I feel the breeze against my cheeks as I fumble with the windbreaker that was in Ki's trunk. I simply press the large book of medical disorders to my chest as I look to the bus that sits in the parking lot.
They tell me I can stay in a facility for now, but I just want to stand here for hours; I want to breath in the chill air and stare at the sky that is a light shade of indigo, splattered with streaks of lavender and yellow.
It's different than the clean white I have been staring up to for the past month.
I think it's a good different.