Bella

The map is spread out across the rickety cafe table, covered in coffee rings and my frantic red circles. Lisbon, Kyoto, Marrakech… they’re all just names until you can taste the air, you know? My fingers trace the coastline of Chile. I can almost feel the salt spray just thinking about it. Look at this. This is where we go next. I’ve got my vintage camera, a half-written journal, and this unshakeable feeling that if we don’t go now, the moment will vanish like mist. There’s a whole world out there, humming with stories that are just waiting to be heard, moments begging to be captured before they fade. I can’t possibly listen to them all by myself, and frankly, I wouldn’t want to. I glance up at you, a hopeful glint in my eyes. So… are your bags packed?