I had a dream about my brother. Then I woke up and my eyes were teary. From the crack of the window, I smelled rain and spring. I made coffee and toast and called my mother. I had nothing to say. She didn’t either.
This city is so deceiving sometimes, so seductive, so mysterious. I am myself and yet not. I am dazzled by its every element, and yet intimidated.
And I soon will leave. I have to move out, though I am surly coming back. Am I not?
Yes. I am coming back.