ABSTRACT
So, under the grey European sky, or in unexpected sunlight, I walk on, counting my steps, each one bringing me closer to my dream. But how many kilometres, how many work-filled days and sleepless nights still separate me from that so-called success that my people, on the other hand, took for granted when I told them I was leaving for France. I walk on, my steps weighted down by their dreams, my head filled with my own. I walk on and have no idea where I’ll end up.
