River flows in you – piano rendition | Original composition by Yiruma (이루마)
"Travel makes one modest. You see what a tiny place you occupy in the world." — Gustave Flaubert, Letter to Louise Colet (1853)
The city feels familiar, yet not. It has similarities with one’s home, though the pulse is different. Its streets flow like water, moving to a heartbeat that the traveler can hear but cannot seem to fully join. It offers neither welcome nor rejection. It simply continues, a low electric hum, unbothered by the traveler’s curious gaze.
As night falls, the neighborhoods come to life. The scent of braised meats from a lingering night market; the sound of clinking glasses and joyful laughter as a family celebrates a grandmother’s 80th birthday; the solitary figure of an office worker, slightly weary, finally returning home after a long day. Myriad lives, each with its own story, unfolding at its own pace and in its own time.
"The traveler recognizes the little that is his, discovering the much he has not had and will never have." — Italo Calvino, Invisible Cities (1972)
Alone in the quiet room, the traveler reflects on the scenes, silently whispering a heartfelt thanks for being hosted—for the sanctuary of this room, the safety of the journey, and the chance to gather experiences so different from one's own. To be part of this presence, even if only for a while. As a guest passing through.
From the Nocturnal Notes: Away...Elsewhere... series by Jacquie T.
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