Monday, 16 March 2015

Between places

The tours are over, the bags a packed and the memory card is full. I am ready to go home but my flight does not leave until tomorrow morning. There is a whole afternoon and evening to spend. This is time between places, time in transit without going anywhere. It is truly free time,  the kind seldomly found. I cannot work on my todo list. There is nothing I "should". I just am.

The time turns into a string of moments: hearing the waves break on the rocks. Watching two puppies chase each other with abandon on the black sand. Seeing people smile.  Feeling the wind blow me up the stairs. And then,  just like that,  the time is gone.  I pick up my backpack and move on.


  1. Ich mag, wie du schreibst. Du transportierst die Stimmung so schön.
    LG, Sabrina


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