extranjero

After doing the laundry, I rearranged gifts for friends and family, and hung my clothes back in the closet. The next day I went to my favorite coffee shop and made a reservation for a deep-tissue massage. Only then was I well enough to resume my yoga practice and Spanish lessons. Occasionally I received emails and text messages from friends in Japan and the US. I replied with gladness, sitting next to a bouquet of fresh white lilies. Late at night, though, I felt a void inside me. And I wondered if other people also had such feelings, if, at times, they too felt happy but also sad, enlightened and confused, content and lonely. What a mystery, I thought. At thirty-three, this life was still a mystery.