Three and a half hours later...
... After walking in the night, foggy, buttfreezing cold countryside to get to the only town I could remember from the map, it turned out I was on the other side of the country. Chances are I cought a vicious cold, but I am super tired and am just kind of sitting outside a train station, waiting for the General to find me. He called about an hour ago, waking up, restless also a bit because I was not home and kind of freaked out when he realized I am walking around in the middle of winter farmland, singing to myself..
It's possible I would have been a lot warmer if I had hitchhiked, but considering only drunk youths returning from village parties are still up, options leaned towards my usual favorite form of transport :) I love to walk. Even dead tired, everything makes a lot of sense to me when I am just moving one foot in front of the other. For example, I could never walk BACK, that would just twist me, but dodging speeding cars and wildlife, not really sure where I'll end up at, is my cooling off period. It's nearly four now. I am getting colder, my blood sugar has run out, but the humm of a near-by highway soothes me. Any minute now the big dark car will detach from it and in it will be afety, love and warmth. There is a town I could mark as our randez-vois, and of course everything is closed. Somehow I dare not knock on the conductor's station, as they are probably napping, too. The night was very lovely, so beautifully clear and crisp in some parts and glowy, monlit fog on others. I don't recommend scary or sad thoughts about raping axe serial killers or scarecrows that are actually murdered people, during such hikes, but instead blatant sexy ones. They keep you warm. And time flies if you are doing the »Girl With Matchsticks« routine, but thinking someone with your boobs in the alternative universe is having an orgasm right now.
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