I do not know where I am sleeping tonight.
I am currently crammed in the back of a Ford Fiesta, hurtling down the autobahn. I have my back pressed against the side of the car, my legs swung up onto the seat next to me. Jammed against the opposite wall, my backpack slides precariously back and forth as the driver alternates between accelerating and slamming on the brakes, navigating the night time traffic.
The sky is in the final shuddering throes of an orgasmic sunset. Even as the dark blue of the night descends, the lingering orange rim of the horizon makes the weak headlights of the car seem unnecessary. The undulating German countryside flashes redundantly past the windows.
The next three weeks are a blank slate, the past one a blur of non-stop activity. I ponder what I always ponder while in transit, particularly during sunset.
What is it going to take to make this my life?
I'm already planning the next three adventures.
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