One and a half year ago you started walking. Walking in search. In search of what?
Safety? A better life? Luxury? Opportunities?
You lost everything.
Your home, your family, your friends.
Now, eighteen months later, you finally feel safe again. Sometimes. I hope.
You travelled over continents. You walked through cities, deserts, countries.
Hoping.
Surviving.
Continuing.
Continuing living.
Continuing walking.
Continuing your search.
Then, one morning, before sunrise, you encountered a woman at a train station.
A woman with short grey hair and a sleepy look.
Then, that morning, you stopped roaming, you stopped searching.
That morning you were found and you found a place.

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