Vienna and Me

It’s midnight in Vienna. The night is soft and quiet; I have just gotten home after a long day, full of studies, talks and emotions. Desperate to get out from under this, I want it just to be over before I drop.

On my way home I decided to take a taxi, an unthinkable luxury. Driving through the city I played a simple game with myself of counting the lit windows. Here there was one in the whole building; here, in another, two. The city was sleeping. I asked the driver to stop 15 minutes from my home in 19th District, suddenly feeling an urgent need to walk.

Here, the streets are empty. I don’t know this town by heart – I have lived here only a year – but nevertheless, I have my memories just waiting for me to notice them. Here, on this very corner I was standing on the first day after my arrival, in the silent snowfall and darkness, trying to find a food store open at 10 in the evening and mesmerized by the giant snowflakes that slowly fall on the trees, green even in January.

I have had my ups and downs here; Vienna has given me huge wings, at least from time to time and then lain the whole dark grey sky back on my shoulders on the very next day. This city knows how to rule my mood perfectly.

Walking alone the streets of 19th District, it feels in this moment as if there is nothing else – just Vienna and me, both of us dosing away, tired after an endless day and cherishing equally this moment of solitude. The wet and warm air under the street lamp stands still; the silence of the town seems to be sinking into the mist.

This walk slowly takes away all the worries of my day, turning it into my past. My silent anniversary of living one year in Vienna is over. It is midnight and a new day.

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