Ella sat at the foot of the statue. It’s face was seemingly familiar. Though the sculptor swore it was based on a man of his own imagination, Ella remembered his big, kind eyes.
Being a street urchin, she had learned not to let emotion get to her. It had been an easy rule to follow. Until now. Those strong arms sparked a memory. A small one. A memory of the arms embracing her.
Ella reached out tentatively towards the man when a guard shouted. She was immediately surrounded. She feared execution or imprisonment, but the urge was too strong. She lunged toward the grey man, and when she touched it, the world spun and disappeared.
Ella felt herself drift into the world of sleep as she felt the comforting embrace once again.