Traveling tales

There will come that moment when you will find yourself in the heart of the city, surrounded by people and motion. And you will feel utterly still. You will hear yourself speak but have no voice.
You won’t even know what direction home is in (or at least that which is familiar), and you’ll lose sense of why you chose to cross this distance in the first place. And in every direction all there will be is distance and no fairy will appear to turn your pumpkin fears into a golden carriage of determination. You will simply have to move forward on rusty willpower.
In time it will become an art, the Art Of Displacement.