Connie often strolled through the park and the adjoining woods, finding solace and intrigue in her surroundings. She delighted in the seasonal changes, from kicking through autumn's brown leaves to gathering spring's primroses. However, this idyllic experience felt insubstantial, as if it were merely a figment of her imagination.

As she engaged with nature, Connie realized that the vibrant oak leaves appeared more like reflections in a mirror than real objects. She felt disconnected from her own existence, as though she were a character from a story, gathering memories rather than tangible things. This sense of emptiness left her yearning for genuine connection and substance in her life.