Prague

I had good reason to go East. My brother Michael was making his own journey there. He had been somewhat remote and distant in the few weeks, that even the usual check in call or letter had not come through for some time, that I started to worry as to his where about. But then, just before my leaving San Simone, I received word through my mother that he was in Prague and awaiting my arrival there. I had no way of reaching him, other then the name of the hotel he was staying in, and decided to take a chance and surprise him. The train going East was somewhat labored and misdirected as it weaved itself through the confused landscape of the Austrian alps into pastoral green valleys that could only be imagined in postcards. I had this feeling that every tiny village I passed, even from the small secluded hob-let, was a place I can make a life in and start a completely new page. It was as though I had once belonged to this land in some pre historical existence and that all those I left behind were all there in those tiny villages waiting my arrival. I knew that all this would have to wait for now, and more then anything I needed to see my brother Michael more then I needed Prague or anything else for that matter. I needed familiar blood to connect with in what was starting to feel like a deserted landscape more and more.