I had no idea where I was going.
I boarded a long-distance bus heading south and took the seat at the very back.
Cool wind poured through the open window, sharp against my face.
My eyes began to sting, and tears slowly blurred what little vision I had left.
The bus traveled through the entire day and well into the night.
When I finally got off, I found myself in a small town whose name I had never heard before.
It was tiny.
A bluestone road ran from one end of town to the other, lined on both sides with weathered wooden buildings.
At the entrance stood an enormous banyan tree.
Several elderly residents sat beneath its shade, lazily fanning themselves with woven palm fans.
I found a small guesthouse by the river and checked in.
The owner was a middle-aged woman.
When she noticed
