Lost, and Then Found Once More: On Traveling Alone Without Sight
“The feeling of being out on my own is worth all the fear I must fight to get there.”
Here I sit again. Once more I find myself seated and facing the helpful travel agent who made all the necessary arrangements for my trip. I’m not certain if being here is right—in a way, it feels like I’m going backwards. Like I will undo all the progress I’ve made, all that confidence gained.
More in this series
The roadside cross is a jarring balance of the emotional poles, internal and external, surely an action by and for the remaining soul—not the one who has departed.
Across the thousands of miles, and the hundreds of years of historical and cultural distance, Albertine and I had our hair in common.