Jia Lissa Travelling Alone -

Here’s a short story based on your prompt.

Her mother had cried. “Too dangerous.” Her friends had laughed. “Who travels alone? That’s sad.” But Jia had just smiled, a small, secret curve of her lips. She wanted to find out who she was without the echo of someone else’s opinion. jia lissa travelling alone

In a tiny hostel in Osaka, she met an old woman who spoke no English. Jia spoke no Japanese. Yet, for two hours, they drank tea, drew pictures in a notebook, and laughed until their stomachs hurt. The woman drew a single flower on a page and pointed at Jia. Alone, but not lonely. Jia kept the drawing in her wallet. Here’s a short story based on your prompt

Jia Lissa had always been part of a we. A sister, a daughter, a teammate, a face in a crowd of faces. But the we had a weight. It was a warm, familiar weight—like a heavy winter coat—but it pressed on her shoulders just the same. “Who travels alone

Jia smiled, looking at the stars. For the first time, she heard the sound of her own wheels rolling over the earth. And it was the most beautiful music she’d ever known.