What and why?
I have decided to write a novel about the life of a traveler in the 21st century. The novel will not only follow the travel itself, but more so look to what pushed the protagonist to travel and how he's struggling to fit back into society afterwards. I've been telling myself to write more on this novel for some time, but never quite get around to it. In a way I hope this will give myself more motivation to keep writing.
I'll post a paragraph weekly (I know, it's not a lot, but you've got to start somewhere), if it gets more traction I'll try to take more time to focus on writing more for you guys. As my novel is titled "When the road calls", each weekly post will be titled "When the road calls" followed by the paragraph #, that way rereading should be easier for all of you.
EDIT: some people have been asking me to post paragraphs more frequently than once a week. I'll try to post more often, but as I'm fairly busy in real life too and want to post quality content, I can not make any promises on this part!
I'm very much looking for constructive feedback (both positive and negative) as English isn't my native language and feedback is the only way I can grow as a writer.
PART #1
“Ladies and gentlemen welcome to Brussels airport.”
Relief, fear, disappointment, excitement, hope, worry, and much more -- it all starts to collide in my head.
“Local time is 7:30 AM and the temperature is 8 degrees Celsius.”
Belgium indeed. After one year of traveling I was back home. Back to a life I never felt was mine. Back to friends I slowly lost contact with. Most importantly perhaps, back to start a new chapter in life. A chapter where I want to find a way to be happy as a functioning part of society.
“On behalf of Condor Airlines and the entire crew, I’d like to thank you for joining us.”
Oh, how my teenage me would have despised that thought.
“See you soon and have a nice day.”
Everyone starts to exit the plane, in a rush to get to wherever they are going. To see a loved one perhaps? Eventually I leave my seat as well. While exiting, I give a slight absent-minded nod and smile to the stewardess at the aircraft’s door.
One last glance at the plane. Back in Belgium. I still don’t quite believe it.
Slowly, I make my way to the baggage carousel. There is no rush. I have nowhere to be. My headphones are on and between Bill Withers’s “Ain’t no sunshine” and Bazart’s “Chaos”, I hear a woman complaining ,in Dutch, to her presumed partner, about how I’m blocking her line of sight. She must’ve thought I was Costa Rican, considering my black hair, brown eyes, and tanned skin - in correlation with the plane we just exited. I turn around and politely tell her that she could just ask me and I would gladly make some room for her. Embarrassed, she mumbles an excuse and moves away.
Sigh, back in Belgium again.
After a minute, my patched-up bag arrives on the carousel. I grab it and head for the exit of the airport.
READ #2 HERE: @martibis/when-the-road-calls-2
