Chris Dadok
Period 2
Tompkins Word Lit Honors
Lost In Budapest
Tick tock tick tock. The weblike shadows clung to me as I sprinted through the streets. My shoes clicked and clacked across the pristine cobbled streets. I weaved my way through what seemed to be a primeval castle. I retraced my steps to the coffee shop whose aromas had long since vanished into the inky night. As I sprinted around unfamiliar corners, hopelessness began to fill the air. Here I found myself in a country where barely anyone speaks English, and the people who do are likely to be extremely intoxicated. Jeez, here I was thinking I could make my way back to the hotel on my own to find myself now stranded on a bridge, the dark waters ebbing beneath me. I force my gaze away from the mesmerizing site, and force myself to continue my ill fated journey.
The longer I meander through the city, the more my panic grows and my breath now slows into scattered gasps. As I round a bend, my eyes set upon a staunch young man who seems respectable enough to ask for directions. As I drew near I explained politely, “ Erm excuse me I was wondering if…?” my words were cut short. I had failed to realize that he was holding a bottle of vodka in one hand and a glass in the other. His breath was repugnant even from five feet away, maybe this was not the best idea. Half way through my sentence the man interjected in fervent Hungarian that was inaudible to say the least. I bowed my head slightly and made a swift exit away from the man.
I reflected on my tumultuous night with a grin, I mean what was the worst that could happen? Well my parents might call the police to look for me but hopefully they had a little more faith in me that I could make it back in time.
I start to run of again, weaving through the streets like a mad man trying to find something he lost twenty years ago. Time was blurring and condensing together like a dark fog that masked everything into a great facade. I checked my watch which glowed in the pervading darkness, I got five minutes to make it back to that hotel or else I might just be hunted down by police anyway. The thought of someone having to get me sharpened my mind to a keen edge.
I was a machine, whirring and buzzing never stopping. The pain in my left side was a distant memory as I pounded down the sidewalk. Then I saw it the crisp and glowing sign of the hotel, and my heart fills with emotion. I stopped. Two miles away I stand up from a lotus position and emerge from the deep thought, I hear a voice near. My mom inquires “ Do you remember how to get back to the hotel?” I look back at her with a sly smile, “ Ya I think I do”