Departure

Sunrise over Stockholm; the little city sleeps. I drag my bags along Bondegatan, the air crisp, the stores silent. We cross the water and the horizon has that pink hue, that near-light, the distant island ablaze with foliage fire.

It's too early in the morning, my body screams, my eyes falter, but I know it's just a countdown of minutes, just a limited unease. In a few hours I am on that plane, in a few hours more I am Elsewhere.

I locked the door to the apartment I love so much. Said I'll see you soon. I leave home.

I run straight into the arms of another.