Perpignon. The best place for business meetings_There's no going back._The Air's Lullaby_Ant
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Perpignon. The best place for business meetings
So that's what it is, Perpignan. I'll be damned. Three in one: France, Spain, and Catalonia, come together here under the hot Mediterranean sun. I didn't know it was possible. It's a place where you live both in France and Spain at the same time, on a completely legal basis. The wide, sandy beaches are just a few miles to the east and the snow-capped peaks of the Pyrenees with their ski slopes to the west. The world-famous resort of the Costa Brava is a 90-minute drive from Perpignan, while the hustle and bustle of Barcelona are less than two hours away. With a population of 300,000, Perpignan...
There's no going back.
I took a deep breath as soon as I got off the train in London, I can't believe I did this. I came to the city that holds my childhood dream in a spontaneous backpack trip that I did to reward myself for all the hard work I did in university. I've been saving money for months, with no plan, no aim just for a day like this to come and from to get a last-minute train ticket from Paris to London after midnight. It was around 6 in the morning when I decided to step out of the train station after finishing all the procedure and getting a little something to eat on my way to discovering the dazzling...
The Air's Lullaby
One of the two doors reminded Harper of a pair of blue eyes that had been crying all night. The faded blue wood looked swollen and there was dampness leaking from the door, but she wasn’t sure where it was coming from. Then she heard a song play, which she swore was somehow playing through the door as she saw it vibrating to the melody, “Somewhere over the rainbow, way up high” she heard singing from the door.An image of her dad, sitting at the edge of her bed, stroking her curly brown hair came to mind when she heard that song. She had nightmares as a young girl and that song always put her r...
Anti-prodigal journey
I’ve left home. I am now six thousand miles away from my parent’s grasp. My parents and their overbearing love which felt less like a cocoon and more like a blade that sharpened a pencil to a point, chipping away at it to achieve a semblance of perfection.The anti-prodigal journey has been winding. First, the northern pilgrimage after living in the South for a few too many years. And what a Mecca at that: New York City, thewww.onedoor.cc pinnacle for those who want to get lost in a crowd. Not caring is the currency of the city. No one cared what I did and I stopped caring back. I built a whole new identity,...