IWillSeeTheWorld.com

A fictional day comprised from parts of many non-fictional days while I was backpacking in Europe

Buildings spread apart and I’m suddenly standing in another square. This one, with a statue at center and people crossing in all directions, is especially vast. Deciding it a good place from which to find my way home, I sit down on a cold, hard cement bench, finish eating my messy falafel wrap and then take to reading again. As pages turn, the sky’s light grows weaker and shadows on my book made from overhead lamps distract me.

People gather in groups in the square. Girls laboriously dressed and made up for the night click by in loud heels. Huddled near a bench a few down from mine, drunks shout and get drunker. Hippies sit out on the ground under a tree, one stands juggling sticks and there is a small mangy dog on leash. A few cute and quieter girls make eye contact while passing and I add up all the imaginary lines that trail behind them. Hours pass, then the entire exciting scene grows familiar. I find myself tired and rereading pages, so I pack up, find my home on the map and head off.

It’s chilly now, so with hands in my pockets, I lock my arms tight to my body and walk briskly. My rubber soles stick well to a sidewalk polished to a shine that reflects headlights of sparse traffic. Walking past the entrance down to one warm metro stop after another, savoring the day, I end up missing the last train and walk the whole way back to the hostel.

Before going to bed, I dig out some bread smooshed beneath the death bag. To cure my sweet tooth, I spread some Nutella on a crumpled up slice and enjoy it before washing the day off of my hands, face and teeth.

Lying down on my back, I look up at a plastic wrapped mattress, which from the weight of some other travelers body, sags through the rails of the upper bunk and though feeling quite happy to be traveling the world and living my dream, I wonder if I did anything at all today.