I woke up having had a dream I was traveling again. I made a note in my mind about the particular feeling in my stomach as I navigated through the small foreign town, like a free fall- terrified and exhilarated at once. Everything new. The streets were small like those in eastern France the town busy I am not sure with whom. There was a large open window on the short second floor of a building and an older gentleman maybe a grandfather was getting a straight razor shave in the window by his wife, and his daughter was there and another person maybe another older man. And there was no screen on the window no window on the window it was just open to the street, to the marketplace, like everything else. And I kept wanting to take a photograph but I had left my camera in my suitcase and I was angry with myself so I tried to take one on a cell phone but the light changed and my subjects moved and the photograph was gone. So I kept going.
Published by Erin Rose Belair
I am multi-genre writer specializing in travel, ad-copy, and nonfiction prose. A recent graduate with my MFA I am spending my new found time rambling around the world, practicing yoga, and searching for the best salad ever. View all posts by Erin Rose Belair