Thoughts Here and There

I'm a local. When did that happen? It happened so subtly. I walk the same familiar routes as if it were old habit, barely noticing my surroundings. Once, I scrutinized every detail to burn it into my memory so I could recognize it on my return trip, but now I tread swiftly past lost in thought. In the metro I no longer pay attention to the stops. I let myself fall into the fictional world of the book I hold in my hands, only vaguely aware of the number of starts and stops. I no longer feel as if everyone around me can see me for what I am, a foreigner. I blend in with a mask of indifference, only betrayed by the ease with which I read the foreign words on every page. I step off the train without doubt and without a hasty glance at the name displayed on the wall. I easily and assuredly glide through the stations and up the escalators, letting my legs carry me while my mind is left to wander. Once out of the metro I impatiently dodge slower commuters and silently curse foreigners with their large luggage and unsure steps. I blow past the all too familiar stores lining the street and, where I once tread timidly, hesitantly, I now daringly cross the street challenging the oncoming car to hit me. Finally, as if it only took an instant, I am in front of the same large doors. As on every other day, I place my hand on the handle, give it a little push, and walk in, leaving everything else behind me to be repeated in reverse.