“Memoirs of a Traveller” by Romo Mamiya: Prologue

“I think I’ll go on a trip,”

I said to myself.

There wasn’t any particular reason.

I had an argument with my boss,

or was neck-deep in debt.

Nothing at all like that.

Finding a car I really liked.

Receiving an old camera from someone.

Stumbling upon a small tent in my closet.

The destruction of my beloved bicycle, which I had used for many years.

The release of the last book in my favorite series.

None of these things are the reason I’ve decided to go on a trip.

But maybe they did give me a little push on the back.

It wasn’t like there was anywhere I wanted to go.

In other words, I had no destination.

I wasn’t going in search of anything either.

Of course, that includes myself.

I’ll just simply go from here, to somewhere else.

From somewhere that is not here, to somewhere that is not there.

This all went through my head when I woke up in the early morning and stared at the blurry ceiling.

“I think I’ll go on a trip,”

I said to myself.