I’d rather be a vagabond, the aimless traveler, the dreaming wanderer. There would be holes in the soles of my shoes. I would stroll the cobblestone streets of quiet towns in the countryside of Europe, or I would take a train to Prague and cross the Charles Bridge. Every night my meals would consist of street food. Or maybe I would indulge and stop at a little cafe grab one of those prosciutto and melon sandwiches. Have you ever had one? They’re very good. You can try one too if we’re vagabonds together. We could walk unattached with nothing anchoring us to shore. But I fear if I grew tired of you I would abandon you too. Then I would be a sole wanderer. But not lonely for I would have the sights and sounds of the world to accompany me. I would swim in the shores of the Mediterranean or watch the sunset over the isles of Indonesia. I could meet so many people with all their different faces. And because I’m a wandering soul I wouldn’t have to bother remembering names, for by the next day I’d be in a new place. And when I become travel weary I will end my run as a vagabond. And I would retire to a quiet little cottage in the mountains. I’d watch the snow fall and remember the greatness of my wandering days.