Here at the threshold of point A to point B, the promise of travel, the sway of a train, a perfect escape, Land Cruiser or horse. Any airport or bus will do. Street maps and foreign tongues, stillness through movement. The simplicity of it all, momentum and inertia, the body in motion. My own revolution, orbit and spin. Pastry in Budapest, the Arabian moon, what I wouldn’t give for a night somewhere, anywhere but here, everything bringing us to this exact point in time—the moment of departure.