Mea had saved the dress for something special several times. She packed it almost secretly, between the practical things. One morning she looked at its blue flowers, her comfortable boots and the perfectly ordinary day outside. This time, she decided, the occasion did not have to arrive first.
An imagined story inspired by original Travel2City photographs. These stops form a collage of separate journeys and days, not a one-day itinerary. The characters, dialogue, clothing, activities and some lighting are artistic additions.
In Seville, Mea tipped her head back so far that she had to steady her scarf. Above the iron grille, stone, ornament and light rose in layers. For a moment she forgot the question she had asked the mirror that morning: was she dressed too nicely for an ordinary walk? The vault clearly had no such concerns. She smiled, let her sleeve fall back to her wrist and kept looking up. There were plenty of practical things in her suitcase. Today, joy could be practical too.
In Córdoba, the light reached Mea before any words did. It passed through a high window, crossed the floor and finally touched the flowers on her dress. She took a small step, and the pattern seemed to change. Half a step back: different again. It was hardly the sort of event one could put on a proper itinerary, but she gave it two full minutes. Her notebook stayed closed. Some moments are easiest to remember when there is no time to describe them.
Before Toledo’s stone facade, Mea intended to stand perfectly still. Then the air stirred, her scarf slipped across one shoulder and the skirt expressed an opinion of its own. She turned just a little, out of curiosity rather than for a pose. And laughed. No photographer, audience or defensible reason was required. She straightened the scarf, took another look at the carved stone and walked on with a slightly lighter step. Fortunately, her boots remained sensible.
When Granada’s walls began to glow, Mea rested against the parapet and drew the scarf around her shoulders. She had prepared nothing for this evening. No grand sentence, no promise, not even a precise time to return. Looking at the golden towers, she realised that somewhere during the day she had stopped checking the dress altogether. She was simply wearing it. For a while she listened to a conversation behind her. Then she smiled the small sort of smile that needs no explanation.
“I’m not saving them for tomorrow.”
From notebook to book
The Map with No Last Page
Travel2City journeys continue between the covers of a book. Discover our illustrated travel world.
