Thursday, September 30, 2010
Once, I went to Praha
Lately I've been thinking a lot about my time in Europe. Mostly, I wish I could go back to London for an extended period of time, but also, I wish I could go back to Prague. Everything seemed sort of magical there. Every other block, it seemed, there would be a random statue. It was beautiful. All of it. Every building, every tree, every bridge, held some sort of mystery to me. Even the money seemed vaguely unreal, like I was in Wonderland, and no longer in Europe. We stayed in this hostel that made me feel like I was in a movie, and I read Girl with a Pearl Earring. Why I read it in Prague that weekend, and not the weekend I was in Amsterdam, is another mystery to me.
This is what I saw:
My hair was blowing in my eyes, but it really didn't matter. Because I was there, in Praha, and the rooftops were red and so was my hair.