The air is considerably colder than yesterday, it’s a tungsten kind of cold that only working in lumber and mines could make you feel. There were only 4 hours left before the sun would rise from the horizon, the sky still black, the stars are barely visible. The sound of winds brushing by, crashing of the luminous thunder that barely peeks from the clouds, the birds who squeak and hum to signal the harmonious presence of their significant other, the occasional rustle in the leaves. It was the calmest I ever experienced, a perfect morning if you ask me. A light breeze hits my face, waking me up in an instant. “…I’m going to miss this…” I say to myself as I clutch the border frame of my window in my attic-room. I look out at the vast scenery, a sea of green as far as the eyes can see. I let out a heavy sigh, then a knock on my door.

It was so sudden, my heart leaped out of my throat, the suddenness of the event caused me to drop my coffee cup, spilling its contents all over the floor.

“Are you okay?! I heard a crash” my mom’s soft voice could be heard through the crevice of the door’s frame.

“Yeah, just fine, just dropped my cup”

“ Oh okay, come on, you got 2 hours until your flight” , her voice squeaked.

I look at my watch and the time shows 4:45 AM. I was in shock. The time really went by fast, maybe because I was too invested in the scenery of this small town I live in. I started gathering my stuff and making sure everything is accounted for. I packed an average suitcase, the kind with 2 separate compartments, a backpack, a briefcase and a carry-on bag. The only thing missing was a pair of sunglasses, which I had forgotten to pack. I reached for them by my bedside drawer till I remembered that Neo-Lumière is stuck in a perpetual winter. Neo-Lumière was actually called New York around 50 years ago and I find it funny that it had “New” in its name considering how old it truly was.