“He had the blue eyes of a blind man, but he could see.” – travel journal entry – Day 22

Stride

One of the things I had always liked about him was that he could walk slow through the city, even though he had long legs.

Here, where dusty trails too-stirred could be blinding, no one ever walked any differently.

He was less enchanting to me now.

When he said he was sorry his eyes were both vacant and omniscient, empty of everything.

This is how I knew it was time to pick a new pace, kicking up grit as I go.