There is a certain sense that one has of the fleeting nature of things. As she boarded the train, destined to the west with its clean streets and clockwork busses, she had just that fluttering in her heart. Thirty seconds after the train pulled out of the station, she already felt nostalgia for the Villamos and the Turkish coffee and the cramped apartment she had shared with her roommate, stocked with a collection of glasses for every occasion -- tea, wine, Unicum, coffee -- none of them holding more than 0.2 liter.
At that moment, she realized that she was sitting in a rear-facing seat, a direction that always left her feeling slightly nauseous. Pushing her bag across the floor of the compartment to an empty seat, she thought to herself, I'm never going back to that Budapest. That Budapest is gone.
No comments:
Post a Comment