Act 3, Scene 4
The End of the Dream Vacation

Ancient Rome, The Italian Renaissance, And Postmodern Love

by Frederick Noble

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One morning considerable research yielded no easy route possible for my return to Amsterdam, neither by train nor plane, that would also allow me to catch my flight home out of Bruxelles (Brussels). I called all over and ended up with piles of scribble-covered paper noting my countless dead-ends. I resigned myself to my fate and arranged to fly to Bruxelles to meet the flight home. I had a final day with Lena in KØbenhavn, including a trip to an interesting modern art museum, oddly enough named Louisiana, out in the cold Danish countryside, then caught a plane in the morning.

On the flight from Bruxelles I was hit with serious remorse, "Wait! Turn around!! There are things I didn't get to see! I still have my credit cards, I can live off those until they cut me off!! Turn around..."

Home again, home again, jiggidy jig.
Another 8 hours of watching that goddamn computer animated plane creep across the monitor.
I got off the plane, sad to be back in the states, sad the fairy tale summer was at an end. But my best friends were there to greet me at the gate, smiles and tears to see me. It was like waking up from a coma. I’d never been gone so long, so far, or so deep.
Back at my apartment there was the pile of bills waiting, my car was still in the shop, work was awaiting my return, etc.

I would not wake up in the monastery from this dream.


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