they say "you're going home, are you excited?" i smile, nod, even utter a word here and there. but my mind, unable to comprehend the bizzareness of this question jabs at my insides. i take the train, somehow, a friend and i had been mulling over rum through the noon, he has come with me to the station to drop me safe with the odious luggage i always travel with.

panting, i take my seat, hug him goodbye as he leaves to grab a waterbottle from the platform and wave a suave bye to me from the window. the train is delayed by three hours and according to the various websites, it should leave in another ten minutes. i check the time, close my eyes and pass out. waking up to the sound of my phone's ringtone, in what seems like a whole day to my drunk mind, i answer the phone. talking actively on the phone i stare back at the boy sitting on the seat diagonally in front of me. i tell him then to stop staring at me, i request. he ignores me, looks forward never to turn his neck back again in the next eight hours on the train.

the journey, metaphorically, has begun.