Day 12: Milano

Blue mist covers the trees. My reflection bobs in the window, subtle hum under my feet. It's as if I'm transporting down a long burry tube, slicing the region in half with a decision to head somewhere else. I expected to see the sunrise, up so early that only the empty squares could hear me sneeze.

But I blinked and it was morning. Every town a new looking glass that my face has melted into.