INTRO: Back home for 10 days, she walked along that afternoon from Monastiraki to Fix. Not many people were around. The dread of a potential drizzle had kept people in their homes. He stopped at his favorite spots. He was hoping that he could force his brain to day-dream. It did not work.
NARRATIVE: She just thought of nothing and called a friend to meet. She went down her list of friends that she would have liked to pass that afternoon with. One by one they failed to pick up their phone. She walked the rest of the way testing how well she remembered each of the streets and where they lead. He did not do too badly though he was in a dilemma a couple of times. Two passers-by stopped to give him directions. The kindness of strangers is what has kept him sane in his life outside his own country, as mad as it sounds that’s is how he perceives being accepted in his adopted country. It is a place where spring comes very late. Winter breaks are few and far between. She feels at home where she can fall asleep. She slept well the first nights in Athens but then she could not. She could not explain it. Walking and thinking he pretended that nothing happened, employing the naivety of a teenager along with the deep self-involvement. He was negotiating in his head what was the point of the artificial naivety injection. The church was closed. Shame, he wanted to get in and sit at the back and light two candles, one for all the dead and one for the living. Being at the back he would be alone. If another walked in, he could still preserve his privacy, as they would walk to the front. By the time she reached the fence that leads to the Acropolis she had made a list of all the things she liked. It was a childish task. There is a small green space she remembed, so she traced her footsteps back. That’s where she made the last call. This was the friend that she wanted to see. No reply. She got up and walked further. An artist was sketching the view from the park to Lycabetus, he was standing up to be able to look above the trees. By the time she stepped onto Aeropagitou street, she was certain that the list was complete. By Loumbardiaris she could have danced. His happiness was short lived. It was the realisation that his plan was to say, the least naïve. They wanted to leave. He did not want to converse. She had nothing to say, really nothing. They cried out from desperation but realized that they made no noise.
