Extraordinary, the strange comforts you can find when you need them the most.
Like when you walk home from work crying:
An obscure pizza place which turns out to be a little piece of Turkey in the middle of a bland Finnish town. Turkish music videos on the TV, fragrant spices in the air, muted chatter in foreign languages around me (me being the only white face in the room), and the waiter giving me what feels like the first kind words of the day.
The walk home, in mild September weather, the delicious heat of the pizza carton against my arm and the wildly beautiful colours of autumn leaves framing the back streets.
A quiet meal on the balcony in the safety of my own home, the greyness of the shifting rain clouds, the chilly and somehow still gentle humidity in the air. The silence of a Saturday afternoon only broken by the crows in the linden tree. And I'm flashing back to happy autumn days by an Irish lake after all the tourists have gone home.
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