Dear Diary,

On that bleak wintry morning, I painfully packed my precious possessions into my solemn suitcase. As I carefully wrapped my beloved picture, the sudden reality of what I’m doing washed over me. I have to leave everything I know and love.

I crept down the creaking staircase to meet my beloved wife. She placed her warm, soft and small hands on my aged, rough ones as a form of silent comfort. This was our last slice of privacy before our daughter woke. I would remember this moment forever. All too soon, it was time for a final farewell. As I went to embrace my little angel for the last time, I carefully slipped my origami bird into her small pocket. I’d hidden a message inside. This bird is a beacon of hope. Never give up hope. I stepped into my cabin on the shrieking ship. It was a simple, bare and dull place. I placed my precious picture on the grey plastic bedside table to make it feel a tiny bit closer to home.

Out on deck, what would’ve been the most fabulous sunset was obscured by the upcoming storm clouds. It was a perfect analogy for my mood. I had a sudden urge to hide away in my cabin and stay there in stowaway  for the return journey, but it was time me for my departure.

Shoulders hunched and brow furrowed, I stepped off the vile vessel into the new and magical land. Off the boat, I was struck by the sudden sensory overload. The delicious scent of exotic cooking and tropical fruits wafted through the hot, sticky air. Stepping into this action-packed metropolis, was like repeatedly banging my head against a huge wall of sound. No wonder it was so noisy. There were so many people everywhere. I was washed away by the river of people. 

The streets were lined with blooming vegetation that’s contained so many different colours, they made my eyes sting. There were violets and vermilions, canaries and crimsons, sapphires and scarlets and many, many more. Even some that I’ve never seen before. Mysteriously glowing birds shot through the dim and dusky sky like shooting stars. The real stars were unlike anything I’ve ever seen before. Now I understood why this strange place didn’t have streetlamps; they aren’t necessary.

The once rushing, raging and rapid river died down to a gentle stream and dried river bed with occasional trickles of water. I trudged along the now deserted street until I finally reached my new home. I was relieved to arrive at the accommodation after the overwhelming hour-long trek through the big, bustling and busy metropolis. My room was drab, dreary and would leave anyone in a bad mood. It was cramped and provoked my claustrophobia.

Walking in, I dumped my suitcase down and slopped onto the creaking, uncomfortable bed and closed my eyes, trying to block out my sadness. It didn’t work. Instead, it consumed me: my isolation and my sadness. However, there was no time to waste. I had come here with a purpose and I shall fulfil it. So, I picked up the newspaper I had found in my new room and started scanning it for the word I learnt from my landlady to mean 'job'. Then I yawned a yawn so big it almost dislocated my jaw and I fell into a troubled doze. I dreamt of my family, my beloved family.