“This time, I'm bringing home something small,” I announced, holding up an empty coin purse. Colombine inspected it with exaggerated respect. Lu Cia looked at the canal, then at the sky. I should have realised my sensible plan had just become a group game.
An imagined story inspired by original Travel2City photographs. The four scenes bring together separate stops, rather than a one-day itinerary. Characters, conversations and lighting are an artistic interpretation.
The sky was floating beneath the bridge. At least until a little boat split it into silver pieces. “That one,” I said. “I'd like to take that home.” Lu Cia looked at my open coin purse. “You'll have to fold it.” Colombine suggested taking just one cloud. We spent so long choosing that they all moved, and none was quite the one we had picked. I snapped the purse shut. Our first souvenir had escaped, but we stayed at the railing for several more minutes. Nobody minded.
The houseboat had windows that already held a little sky. Lu Cia noticed at once. “Sorted. We'll take this one.” “Kitchen included?” Colombine asked. I pictured myself explaining at home that I'd brought back only a small souvenir; it just needed mooring somewhere. I laughed loudly enough to make a passer-by turn. The yellow timber shimmered in the water, and a little dinghy rocked beside it. I promised to choose something I could carry by myself. Lu Cia accepted this new condition with considerable reluctance.
In Middelburg, the sky decided to make our choice easier and started falling. I opened a large tartan umbrella. Colombine tucked away her sketchbook, and Lu Cia slipped under the other edge. In front of the green shutters, we suddenly had a small roof of our own. “There you are,” Colombine said. “You're carrying it already.” I turned and caught her amused look. With enviable composure, Lu Cia added that the folding version was more practical for travel. Rain drummed on the fabric. For a while, we had no need to go anywhere; it was enough that all three of us fitted beneath it.
By the sea, I picked up a small empty shell. It was exactly the size my plan allowed. I balanced it on my palm. “That one qualifies,” Lu Cia approved. Just then, the wind blew the end of my scarf straight across my face. Colombine burst out laughing, and I joined in before I could see the sea again. I put the shell back in the sand. As we left, I found a few grains in my pocket and that laughter still in my head. It had worked. I had something small — and there was room in it for all of us.
“The best souvenir happened to us.”
From notebook to book
The Map with No Last Page
The world of Travel2City continues between the covers of a book. Discover The Map with No Last Page and more illustrated journeys.
