Total pages in book: 39
Estimated words: 35349 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 177(@200wpm)___ 141(@250wpm)___ 118(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 35349 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 177(@200wpm)___ 141(@250wpm)___ 118(@300wpm)
As I slowly strolled the uneven path, I felt this strange sensation, one that was familiar but unusual at the same time. I noticed a man standing a few feet away as I passed him, his gaze directed at the river, but then he glanced at me, even if only for a second. There was something about him that made me pause because… I knew him.
Well, I didn't know him, but I recognized him from earlier today, near the Louvre, and I was pretty sure I saw him yesterday when I checked out the Eiffel Tower.
I shook my head, my past trying to rush upon me, even when I was so far away. I would not let paranoia claim my peace here. I brushed off the uneasiness that tried to creep along my spine. I reminded myself I was traveling and so were a lot of other people. Of course, I might see the same tourists at popular attractions in the city. It was bound to happen.
The only reason I noticed him these few times was because he was quite large in height and bulky in stature. He stood out, being so big and towering over everyone else.
Feeling content with my thought process, I continued walking, determined to enjoy the rest of my day. But I still held on to a minuscule amount of paranoia thanks to my trauma. The bitch had a lasting hold on me.
I took note the man wasn’t following me, which put me a little more at ease. A sigh of relief wanted to escape me, but there was still the feeling of something being off. It was a shadow that refused to leave.
With enough time away from home, I’d learn how to rid myself of the lingering doubts my past had molded me into. Europe was my escape, and finding peace and adventure was exactly what I intended to do.
3
DOLLY
The wine bottle clinked softly against the counter as I set it down. The rich, red wine would pair perfectly with my pasta and meat sauce I picked up at a little bistro down the street.
After sightseeing all day, I decided I’d end it with a nice, peaceful evening of takeout and a movie. Perfect for my last night in France.
After uncorking the bottle and pouring a generous glass, I turned the TV on, cranked up the volume so I could hear it in the kitchen, and started sipping on my wine. I went into the kitchen to plate my food. I couldn't help but feel excitement as visions of my next adventure rushed through my mind.
But as much as I loved traveling, my bank account didn’t share my adventurous enthusiasm. Though I’d drained my account before leaving the States so I could pay cash for everything, I didn’t have any incoming finances, and I was running low on the US dollars I exchanged at each stop for the local currency. Once I got to Romania, I’d need to figure out if I was going to stay or force myself to go back to America.
I shook my head at myself. I won’t be doing the latter. No matter what.
If I wanted this to be my life, I needed to make it happen. I needed a job, something that would allow me to keep moving, to keep exploring, or maybe find a new home so far away that no one could ever hurt me again.
I was taking a train tomorrow, and I’d make a few stops over the next couple of days before settling in Romania. Once I got there, I’d start searching for something that would ensure I could be self-sufficient on a whole different continent than the one I’d grown up on, and maybe then, I’d feel like there was enough distance between me and my past.
After I got my food plated, I went back into the living room and sat on the little sofa. I let my mind wander as I imagined what kind of work I could do. My two semesters of community college didn’t earn me a degree. And my only work experience was at the supermarket when I was a teenager and the odd jobs I was paid for as a self-taught seamstress.
My options were limited.
As I ate, I finished my first glass of wine and poured another. I savored the warmth the alcohol spread down my throat and through my chest, and when I finished my second glass along with my dinner, I poured a third before I got up and grabbed the plastic container for a second helping.
I was halfway through my second plate of food when the wine finally kicked in. It took a while seeing as my belly was also being filled with sinfully delicious carbs. A strange, tingly feeling settled over me. At first, it was just a lightheadedness, but then it grew stronger, heavier.