An extract of my work – journey towards the unknown
I’m writing – that’s why I’m here. My plan is to have written one book at least one day – no time schedule up to now – and here is an extract, I’m on my way but I wonder what professionals would say as well as for sure readers.
If you take the time to read what I produced I would be more than happy to receive feedback!
Please be honest, I can stand it 🙂
Thanks a lot upfront!!!
Downstairs I’m standing now with my suitcase and the keys in my hand to remember where I parked the car. It’s autumn already and I always try to find a place away from the trees. I walk through the autumn filled air to my car, it’s covered with leaves already although the autumn just starts. I see it but my mind is already traveling, far ahead of me. My scarf isn’t protecting me from the cold air, or is it just my inner feeling?
The first thing after starting the car is turning the heater on, I’m freezing. The way to the airport is an half an hour drive and normally I turn the radio on and sometimes I even sing along but today I don’t even realize the silence in the car. My mind is loud enough, thoughts of how it will be and how I will feel. The streets are still empty, it’s early morning and weekend. The river besides the street is flowing quietly, no more kids playing there before they head off to the school, just a few people go for a walk with their dogs. We have many dogs in the city, this is what my husband realized quickly when he was here for the very first time. He’s scared of dogs and to have one as a pet is normal here but completely unusual for him. There are dogs existing where he is and he even had one as a child but nowadays it’s not common anymore.
I stand a the first traffic lights, wondering how often I drove this way and when I will be there again. The way to the airport is well known, I went there a felt thousand times. In the past mainly for catching flights for work, after I changed my job position the drives were rarely. Once or twice a year for work or holidays but it wasn’t my weekly drive anymore. When I met my husband the first time in person it was the first time for me as well to drive there and wait for someone to leave the arrival area. Someone I rarely knew at that time. It was exciting, scary, a strange feeling deep inside on what will happen and how we will spend the weekend.
Since then this airport has a special meaning for me, or better said, two.
The pick ups every few weeks are the happy drives. When I am near I even imagine in which arriving plane he may is or if he is already so near to me as I wish. The departure drives are the sad ones and we both try to catch every second of us before he is walking through the security check. I mostly try to walk away quickly so that he is not seeing the tears welling up. And also not to be one of those movie women at airports, crying because a spouse is leaving. I want to be stronger.
My car is parked and I am on my way to the check-in. The flight is on plan so far and I don’t have to hurry. Time to have a coffee and check the duty free offers but I’m walking like absent minded through the shops. I buy his perfume as it’s cheaper here and I love his smell so much. At home I open his wardrobe from time to time just to catch his scent. It’s easing somehow. He’s not there but I can smell him.
The gate opens and I walk between strangers into the plane. This is not unusual as I did it many times but this time it feels different. The language already changed although we haven’t started yet and I am happy that the stewardesses speak my language. I’m able to communicate at least until I arrive. Most of the passengers seem to be residents of our destination and the cultural difference is already present. Women are covered, some loosely, some from head to toe. They smell different than European women. I’m feeling slightly uncomfortable as I have the feeling as if everyone is staring at me. Who is she, the blonde woman, uncovered on her way to their country. I’m not uncovered like uncovered in a European meaning. I’m wearing comfortable jeans, flat shoes, a T-shirt and my wool jacket as I’m always freezing in planes. My scarf is in my bag, I’m sure I need it later on when the air condition of the plane starts. I’m pretty sure that they aren’t watching me because I’m not covered, they will always do that as I’m different. I will never fit into their picture on how women should look like and I will always be whiter and blonder. At this moment I’m glad to have booked a window seat as usual, that way I can snuggle up in my corner without strangers stepping over me to grab their bags, needing a toilet or whatever. A last message is sent to say that I’m in the plane, arrival time should be on schedule and that I will call as soon as I have arrived and the phone has net. Time to plug in the ear phones, music is always calming me down. Not because I’m scared of flying, I like it, but in general. To listen to my favorite music while starting is one thing I love. Everything is getting smaller below me and we break through the clouds and fly directly into the shining sun. The sun will be the same here and there but its intensity will change.
I am leaving, I am really leaving and am on my way. It’s kind of exciting and nervous at the same. Yes, I’m nervous as I go into a country I have never been to before. A country where the war is just over and it’s still not as calm as I would wish. A culture so different from ours. I tried to imagine several times how it will be but I will never know until I’m there. Imaginations, pictures, scenes from TV news, everything is running through my mind.