In Portugal the clouds came closer, dimming the sun. The landscape flattened. Suddenly open; the sea on both sides and we’re on a bridge. On the other side: Lisboa. Growing bigger by the moment.

I am finally back here.
The mellow sky doesn’t sadden me. Instead I feel safe, like entering cotton.

I’ve eaten nothing today but a bag of chips and a carton of pineapple juice.

And I’ve been counting down to this day for a whole month, and I’ve been moving towards here for a whole week, and finally it worked out with all the trains and times and changes, all the sitting and walking and all the alarms. And tomorrow is the date that was the one, the really important one to adapt to, and in the evening I take off and then God only knows what will happen.

Tomorrow is the last day for which I have a plan. After that, something new begins.

…

(This story told in pictures.)