Image by yum9me

Look, look: this is how time fucks us. Thirteen days ago, I had just stuffed my bag into the trunk of the rental car and was leaving the shiny, chromed multistorey airport car park with the windows rolled down and the tank full and my mind set on the hot autobahn and the smell of the sea. And now, after only an instance, I’m standing in the same shiny, chromed multistorey car park with the windows rolled up and the tank full, and the only thing assuring me that I really left here in the first place is a piece of Croatian cheese in my bag and the smell of sweat and salt on my shirt.