Solitude by Augmented_Reality

She had nothing left.. as she stood by her fathers grave - surrounded by a mist of figures in black.. they seemed like a blur of people pass her by with supportive touches on the shoulder and gentle pats on the back - almost like the wind..

She was dressed in the only black dress she owned.. the only dress she owned for that matter.. everything seemed to be a repeat.. after losing her mother so young at the tender age of 6 and now her father at the age of 23.. they left her nothing but wealth...money...estates..
Her father was a man of much wisdom and few words.. of much knowledge and little arrogance.. for his dynamic and unquestionable mind was worth millions.. yet all she knew was her father was an explorer; a revealer of mysteries; a scientist; a professor...

One day on her usual walks in the crowded market; a ball rolled to her feet.

But it didn't look like your average street football like she assumed..
It was the size of a tennis ball
Bronze colored Heavy and covered in pattern work; so intrinsic and captivating that it seemed to suck her in...
She picked it up covered in mud and dirt and decided to take it home
It seemed like the perfect distraction
...and this was not a coincidence....