After Prague

Someone was whistling..
It was strange, for you don't expect this while stepping of the train.
I had been to Prague with the whole department to visit the PQ 2011. For six days I had been stuck with only girls and my frustrations and doubts about what was to come: the results from the exams.

Not that I minded the girls, we had fun. Neither did I mind the frustration and doubts, as anyone from the department had them, all unaware of any result.

Only the last night had been too much, with many drama and stress about getting to the airport in time. Yet, we had succeeded, all was good.
Prague had been amazing: the weather was warm, the food was good and there was art to see. I was pleased, happy even to have seen this great city.
But now it was over: entering the the grey and cold Belgium, the memories of the heat were already distant. It is really strange how fast things become fleeting, seemingly ages away in the past.

It was certainly odd when we stepped out of the train and heard someone whistling this unfamiliar happy tune. I said goodbye from my companion whose name I had forgotten a thousand times during the trip, put on my headphones and walked outside on the large, misty square, with Amatorski dancing in my ears.

I got to the busstation, and yet again I heard the unfamiliar, happy tune. Only now I could identify the source: an elderly man, waiting for the bus. I kept looking at him, wondering how he could be this happy. I think he noticed me as well, for he looked at me and then walked past me, a little bit too close. The oddity of the whole situation had escalated to me at this point. But before I could think any further, the bus was there. I stepped into the crowd, into the bus, and headed back to the gilded cage that I call home.