Early morning when she picked up her bagpack and left the house, it was still dark outside. The wind had stopped blowing, every sound was holding its breath, waiting for the dawn to break. As she walked down the empty street, she felt like the only person awake in the whole sleeping neighbourhood.

On her way, she had to stop at a few places. Once to have some coffee and snacks, a little way up, she sat down at a roadside shop. She removed her bagpack and put it down beside her. Rubbing her stiff shoulders, she tried to ease the pain.

An old man with a jolly greeting offered her breakfast on a wooden tray. The coffee spilled a little as he placed the tray on the sloped table. She smiled and thanked him. Noticing the spilt coffee, she looked down and checked the legs of the table. Yes, one of it was slightly shorter than the rest. She smiled at its disbalanced gait and picking up the cup to her mouth, she took a sip. The hot liquid scorched the tip of her tongue but as it went down her throat, it warmed her from within and she felt quite happy.

She loved wandering alone. When she went out with her friends, it was as a part of that group. But when she was solivagant, she felt she was a part of the whole world inspite of being just herself.


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