My limbs were numb, my voice was cold, I couldn’t look him in the eye.
I didn’t want to live like him but I didn’t want to die.
My limbs were numb, my voice was cold, I couldn’t look him in the eye.
I didn’t want to live like him but I didn’t want to die.
I fit perfectly. And it’s because I’m home.
It’s nice to have a common theme to your travel; to have some sort of bucket list that you can use as a guide. Literary tourism is a great place to start.
As soon as it clicks into place above my head, I hear a rush of air being suctioned out of the DreamScape. The bubbles stop. Everything around me goes dark and I feel myself fall backward.
In order to prompt my memories of travel (which will be giving my daily dose of adventure) I like to go back and look at photos from my trips.