Whenever she thought of home, it always reminded her of darkness and the flickering honeyed glow of the street lamp beaming faintly onto her window through her partly cracked shades. One would say, "A foster home isn't technically a home." Well, she slept there, she ate there, she spent most of her time there, did her homework and made friends there. Just as she had for the last fifteen years of her life. It's all she ever remembered and all she ever knew.
Where she lived wasn't a tall city, but it was wide, a flattened tent that extended for more miles than one could count. The city itself was bright, just at the foothills of a mo