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From chapter: Trains and Germany
Another bit of a chapter I’m rewriting¬†for the first book of my¬†Pilgrimoire series: “The Parts that Felt Like Me,” coming out by hook or crook at the end of the year!

Inexplicably, I felt myself crunching up into a little ball the further into German territory I went. The scenery was magnificent, with hillsides of green and little rivers popping into view between the summer trees. My favorite landscapes are often green rolling hills, and undulating farmland. I am from lower mid Michigan after all. Germany is a bit more compact, perhaps more West Virginia, or more Ohio if you get my drift. Warm, wet summer wears well on the German town. People are out and smiling, traveling for their holidays with children. Unfussy and downright talkative compared to their work week in the city.

Yet I still felt small and contracted the further east we got. Maybe the hills were closer together. Maybe I was nervous about the train connections, you ask. No. I think my radar was on for past lives, and fear…

 

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