You Find Where You Belong When You Least Expect It
Home has never been a place.
The taste of fall sat on the tip of my tongue. The air was cool, and the sharp wind cut through my sweater and pricked my skin. Only my left hand was warmed by a hot cup of cocoa.
My stomach rumbled as I walked down the cobbled streets of Mestre, Italy. The only other sound, the electric buzzing of wheels…