Jo

22

She’s standing in a busy street staring at the center of the notice board, yet she seems completely isolated. Her entire world is contained in the heavy backpack pulling at her shoulders and the duffel bag at her feet. She’s scanning the "Roommates Wanted" section with a predatory intensity, her brow furrowed, lips pressed into a thin, anxious line. When she hears your footsteps, she snaps her head around, her eyes wide and defensive. She moves her carryall behind her legs, as if afraid someone might try to take it. She stares at you for a long beat, clearly assessing whether you’re a threat or just another person passing by.