València. 2025-2026.
You aspire to absolute freedom, to falling a little more in love with life every day,
and you reject the idea of having any certainties.
and you reject the idea of having any certainties.
And then one day,
the grocer on the corner knows your name.
the grocer on the corner knows your name.
One day,
— a Saturday morning, to be precise —
like every Saturday morning,
you head to the market at 7:30 to beat the crowds,
you stock up on fresh vegetables for the week
and you realize it looks suspiciously like a routine.
— a Saturday morning, to be precise —
like every Saturday morning,
you head to the market at 7:30 to beat the crowds,
you stock up on fresh vegetables for the week
and you realize it looks suspiciously like a routine.
At lunchtime, you walk to the port to do yoga
and you notice you always put your mat in front of the same pontoon.
and you notice you always put your mat in front of the same pontoon.
You're almost used to the firecrackers going off at your feet
and the flood alerts that make every phone beep at once on the metro.
and the flood alerts that make every phone beep at once on the metro.
You smile when you recognise the smell of home.
You spot tourists from miles away.
You barely feel Parisian anymore.
Even if you still complain when a bike runs a red light,
you also feel your heart warm at the contagious smile of the baker serving her first customers.
Even if you still complain when a bike runs a red light,
you also feel your heart warm at the contagious smile of the baker serving her first customers.
You walk the city without GPS
and you've crossed certain smiles enough times for them to become words.
and you've crossed certain smiles enough times for them to become words.
You understand,
— no, better,
you feel —
what it means to belong.
— no, better,
you feel —
what it means to belong.
Finally, you feel like you belong.
