In Which My Parents Leave For The U.S.

After all their various knocking about, it has finally come time for my parents to leave. Which is sad. People leaving is always sad, because it means they’re going away, and despite the fact that I love traveling, I don’t particularly like going away.

And today, they are going away.

It is strange, going to an airport with a backpack, and then not getting on a flight. I, obviously, had come in on a train, and I planned to leave the same way, but I was taking the long way to the train station by making a stop at the airport, first. I went all the way up to customs, and saw them off through the line, then made my way to the bus, and from the bus, to the train station, only to just miss the train, meaning I would miss class, yet again. This time I actually feel bad about missing class, because it is a class I quite like, not the class I “accidentally” miss by failing to check the time when I’m at the café.

I tried to find a book at both of the train bookstores, but no such luck. So, instead, I got a sandwich (which came with a free tea) and some chocolate from the chocolate place (along with yet another marvelous drinking chocolate!). I felt bad about tossing the tea, but it sat there, lonely and unwanted, and there really was no one for me to pawn it off on–today was perhaps the first time I haven’t seen a homeless person wander by the station. Into the bin it went, and onto the train I went, about the same time my parents’ flight was set to take off. I suppose now everyone is truly heading home.

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