To run away has many reasons. To hide. To forget. To leave behind. But also to move towards something. Aspirations. Dreams. An Utopia in your imagination. Or maybe it’s real somewhere, maybe if I look in the right place at the right time, I’ll find what I’m almost not sure I’m looking …
The wind in your hair. Your home in a bag. A vague destination. Random glasses of sugarcane juice for your parched throat, and steaming mugs of ginger-lemon for those chilly mornings. Multiple directions from different well-wishers duelling with glances of the tattered map. Every cup of tea delicious and as different as the person making …
