Everything’s in English and he’s walking too slowly. His shoes are caked with dust from the Roman Forum, his shirt is new and French, and the Radiohead CD in his ears, he bought in Belgium
He’s starving and stiff and tired, but he dallies on his way to baggage claim. He wants to prolong this feeling, the transient sensation of having everything he needs on him, everyone he needs far away.
It ends. He hugs his mother and grabs his backpack. Funny. Backpacks was so important yesterday. Not anymore.
For now, home is fresh, new and familiar. Everything’s different, nothing’s changed.
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