Day 2

Barely three hours' sleep in a strange place. There is hardly time for nightmares before alarms ring shrilly and one by one and bodies stir, accelerating as the sense of urgency dawns on us all.

We continue to drive as it continues to rain. Hours are spent lost in a place I thought I knew. I certainly found my way there, but I cannot seem to map my way out of this maze. It is a labyrinth of tall buildings breathing history with every day they stand, landmarks you pointed out as the best coffee in town and that place that burnt down. Everything I see is you, and though getting lost seems unnecessary I am glad for the presence of you and I in this strange darkness.

We leave the city and suddenly we find ourselves in the Eden of our land. The rain persists and everything is wet and green as though we never went near it. This marks the border between home and a foreign place, and we cross as though it is invisible.

It is an unexpected beauty. Though we knew not what to expect, nobody can prepare for this. It may simply be the dense clouds screening a struggling sun, but the light here is different. The landscape is breathtaking without being wholly alien to us, and as we gasp at the thick, moist greenness, the flatness interrupted by smooth bursts of rounded rock pushing out of the clay-like earth to bulge towards the moon like a pregnant womb, we are reminded of home. I, of you, as I envisage showing it all to you.

I cannot tell you that I am safe. But I am. There is nothing here- the towns are made up of toy houses and the streets were drawn by clumsy child fingers to allow play-play cars through. Everything is a little dirty. Someone has forgotten about this place and its people, forgot to clean the floors and give the walls a fresh coat of paint. Children stand around barefoot and still, mismatched and seemingly aimless.

There is no paint here.

It seemed a tedious day of not yet arriving, but no longer being at home.

Tomorrow is another, and we will indulge to let the daylight arrive before we do.