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Again, I am taking part in Weekend Writing Warriors event, which is an amazing way for your stories to be let into the world. There, you can share between 8 and 10 sentences of your work, every Saturday and Sunday.

This time, I am presenting you an excerpt from a story that I started, but never finished, and I do not think I will complete it any time sooner. Nine sentences of something that would take a lot of effort on my part to write.

What did Berlin, Amsterdam, Paris, and everything in between have that home did not? The streets were cold and wet, the monuments and sculptures all worn off from constant looks of strangers. A journey was taking place, promising to be exciting and thrilling even with the spring forecast of moody weather. The light posts by the road flew one after another, with soft humming of the bus engine filling the interior. Three friends were looking through the window. The adventures awaited. Even if it meant spending most of the trip in hotel rooms and on bus seats and on pavements that so many had walked on before. The three of them then looked at each other. The tale of three cities and everything in between was not home, but it was interesting enough to be explored.

What I had in mind for this, while I was still eager for writing it, was to write a novel or a longer short story based on a trip that my two friends and I took to Berlin, Amsterdam, and Paris, with visits to some other cities on our way, too. This was an excerpt from whatever that was supposed to be.

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