02

Part of the billboards in the train are in English, but only the main idea. The details and whatever is the funny or exciting message is in this language that I cannot read. It's funny, you feel so bad for the people that can't read and then you discover that you can't read in most languages. But it's not so funny because you live here now.

The travel in the train is nice. The movement is nice and soft. I always look for the seat under the stairs that has only one seat and faces the back of the next seat. I travel hidden. I imagine most people find this seat uncomfortable, they like the windows, the sun, all the people doing their daily activities. I find comfort in the piece of metal next to me. I wish the ride was longer, but the stations go quickly and I get down. I hear two people from my country talking. I look away, afraid that they will recognise me. I walk faster, the dread of recognition overcoming the fear of braving the world.

I look at the map. My destination is not far.

01

It's been a month since I arrived here. The wind blows everyday. Sometimes a car passes by, and you can see some people walking around every so often. There's not a lot of people around here. The blueish hue of the wet grass is occasionally interrupted by patches of mud.
The town is only some 3 train stations over, but I can hardly muster the strength to walk to the train station by myself.

"Guess we should try going out?"

I open the kitchen door and step outside for just a moment. The hair on my arms stands up as the breeze gently shakes the washed bedclothes hanging from the metal frame just outside the house. I stand there for a second and step back inside. From the outside I hear a man say something out loud, but I can't make out the words. It's always the same since I arrived here. There's always someone saying things out loud that I can't understand.