Vagabond Multilingual Journal Spring 2014 | Page 29

It stroked me. It felt like the first caress of warm waves on my feet after a long winter.

“My name is Joe. My parents were stationed at an American military base in
West Germany. I was born in Germany. I lived my childhood in Germany, and when I
was six years old, I went to a Catholic boarding school in France. I also lived in France for
seventeen years.”

“How did you end up at this place, Joe?”

“You think all runaway children are the same? Some college students like you,
who have no worries, will never know.”

“What do you mean? What opportunity can you get without a college degree?”

“College is not for everyone. But I can try, OK?”
Rose tears up from the clarity of my senselessness. We sat silently for a few moments.
I’ll never forget that meek look on her face. Tears of innocence began to fill my eyes.

“You still have time. Just think about it more.”

“I’ll be Ok...I do not need any friends. How do you know how I feel?
You jus Ё