She frantically packs her suitcases - throws in last pieces of clean underwear, new cheap swimsuit and a couple of books. After a year of moving 3 times to different apartments, she can barely stand an idea of packing even a small luggage. Catching a cab to the airport is one of the luxuries she promised herself during this holiday. The cab driver seems to be an indian man who proudly decorated old cab’s interior and didn’t forget massaging car seat covers made from wooden beads. Kennedy’s international airport - she said and sinked into the soft seat, thinking that ironically her international trip started already after she rushed through the lobby door.

Two an a half hours at the busy airport - within swarming mass of loud people, crying toddlers, sizzling sounds and not a single calm corner. Two hours at the busy airport not hearing your own thoughts or the thoughts passing through your head, which are barely yours. After working full-time for three years straight after graduation and giving her all, one and a half hour at the busy airport is more of a pleasant far away New York street style background noise that goes well with a little espresso and an overpriced cookie.

Somewhere in Europe. That was the goal of her “exploring more of the world”, as much as a young working girl can afford. Now see, the young working girl sound adventurous as long as you actually get to know what is like to be a young working woman. She used to clean dishes after the lectures and once got to polish the restaurant’s silverware with acid, thinking of how much her insurance would pay if a drop would burn out one of her eyeballs, accidentally. So she got used to hustle, as so she did get used to surviving, which in her consciousness was ingrained more as maintaining her adult life. She had not much time to worry, as she had to go on and graduate. And when she did so, she had her job contract in hands before her actual university diploma, as it takes some months for the administration to print it. “Great success!” - people around her were congratulating her for the fast immersion into the job market. And yet, the same night the diploma ceremony was happening, the workplace decided to host an opening party of the new headquarters. “Great success!” - people kept telling her, while your ex-course mates get to sweat in the sun while waiting at the main square of the town for their diploma to be handed over, you get to be at actual work. Which was the whole goal of getting a diploma, getting a degree, or so.

***

Finally, plane lands somewhere in Europe. The midday sun shines high in the sky, no clouds as far as the eye can see. A light breeze glides on sweaty skin. Feeling lightheaded after a couple hours in a stinky suffocating bus going higher up the hill. The village is small and calm, surrounded by the greenery, thriving on a hard dry soil. The gulf is about the size of a big blue lake. Emerald undertones from deeper underwater mixing with light sparkles on the top of tiny waves. All around - just dark green hills, couple houses and cats. Smell of sunscreen reaches from the coast - mother and a daughter in stripy swimsuits rubbing their arms and legs with yellow tanning cream. Even the kids seem to peacefully try not damage the landscape by lowering their soundscape while jumping over upcoming waves and catching imaginary fish.

The road is not paved, sandy with couple tiny stones each 5 metres getting into her flip flops. She puts her oily dark brown hair up into a bun, throws on big red beach towel weighting her shoulder down and walks towards small concrete beachside block where other tourists are laying in white deckchairs. On the edge of small garden between houses stands seemingly dry tree with just a couple branches and leaves. Soft wind from the sea side sweeps through a couple of leaves, moving just them and a small blushed orange ball. Girl moves on closer and tenderly scoops it into her palm.  It's warm and feels somewhat velvety. Time slows down. She forgets the beach, the sea, the tourists, the sand between her toes. Tender fruity smell tickles her nostrils and she bites it carefully. A drop of honey juice drips down her lip as citrus sweet and sour firework erupts. Eyes closed, mouth full of a sweet sun-ripe bite of an apricot.