Lost Luggage
It makes me feel like I haven't really arrived yet. Or like I was never away. There are no backpacks filled with dirty laundry just inside the door, no heaps of books waiting to be sorted out and taken to the office, no bags in different states of unpacking surrounded by chocolate paper and bubble plastic from gifts and souvenirs. Perhaps I was never gone - the only thing I have to indicate my month of absense is a bottle of tax-free booze and a box of chocolates - and the chocolates are almost gone already. But I keep checking, hoping to hear that my bags are on their way to Volda. Without them, I feel like I have just lost a month.