Clover was always a quiet person; she did not like to interact with people, and she did not like to be in one place for a long time. Her hair always fell right into place even though she never brushed it. Her body cavity was shrinking, you could see every vein in her arms, and her eyes seemed to sink into her head. Smoke filled her lungs, and as she exhaled one could not tell the difference between the cigarette smoke and the steam from her breath against the frigid winter air. She hiked along the shoulder of the crumbling road and where it met the frost covered grass. The wind was kissing her face and caressing her arms; she stomped out her cigarette butt and continued walking with no expression. She did not know where she was going, but she knew that she had to get away, and stay away.

Clover lit another cigarette, threw her belongings into the dirt, and sat under a tree in the ditch. The leaves were beginning to change color from bright reds and oranges to deep, rich browns. Dead leaves fell through the sky and rested on the frost as the wind blew. The clouds formed distinct shapes in the charcoal grey sky. She sat there for hours under that tree just looking around at everything and watching all of the cars go by. She really enjoyed not having to communicate with anyone. She loved wandering in between tree trunks with no where that she had to be.

After a couple of hours of sitting under that bare tree she unzipped her old duffle bag, grabbed her faded flannel jacket, put it on, and she began to walk again. She needed to figure out a plan because she didn’t know what she was doing. Clover was not happy in her hometown; the people there were very judgmental, and she just couldn’t be there anymore.

After a few nights of staying in cheap and moldy motels she decided that it wasn’t working out for her. She wasn’t getting anywhere, and she was just wasting time. She needed to figure out how to be happy again. She left so that she didn’t have to be around judgmental people anymore, but that doesn’t mean that she doesn’t need any social interaction. So, Clover packed up her belongings and left the moldy motel to begin her journey to the poverty filled, yet happy land of India.

She got a plane ticket that night in the café down the street with the money that she had brought with her. She printed off her ticket and began to look for a way to get to the airport. She asked around the café for someone who was willing to take her there, and she eventually found a nice middle aged woman who was very happy to take her there.

On the way to the airport that night Clover told the lady her story of why she was going to India. She explained that the people in her hometown only cared about wealth, and they weren’t happy, but in India most of the people don’t have but a few dollars to their name, and they are extremely happy. The people there are so content with their lives even though they hardly have any belongings, and she could not wait to begin her new life in a whole new country.

The next evening Clover woke up on the plane with the jolting of the wheels hitting the landing strip. She was now home. She looked out the plane window, and she was totally blown away by the beauty of the architecture that was surrounding her. She was the first one off of the plane, and there she began her journey of beginning a new life. She was so excited to finally be somewhere that was not going to be full of people who judged her and only cared about money. Clover was finally somewhere that she was going to be happy.