Whenever I think of England and my adventure there, this is what I hear. It's me riding my bike around Cambridge. It's me marveling at cathedrals. It's me walking through quaint, unfamiliar towns. It's me riding the train in the countryside. It's my heart aching to be back there.
A gentleman with an accent came up to the advising desk yesterday morning at Heartland. I quietly and cordially asked him if I could ask where he was from and he said England. And then I asked if I could ask where at in England and he said Liverpool. And I told him that I was there over the summer, in Cambridge, doing an internship. He had no interest in my story and I was bummed. I really wanted to talk England with him and ask him why he was here, of all places, but he just wasn't having it. :(
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