"Where are you going Brandon?" James asked. He stood to the side, watching me pack an old leather backpack; the type you would associate with a long journey.
"I don't really know," I shrugged, "not yet at least," I another item in the bag. Set to the side of the bag in a neat pile was a long walking stick and a map, a rain coat and a pair of sturdy boots.
"I guess a better question would be why are you going?" James asked and nudged me, prodding for answers.
I muttered under my breath, words that echoed in my mind; burned in my soul.
"I didn't quite catch that mate," James said and he leaned closer.
I straightened up and looked my friend in the eye, "beyond the East the sunrise, beyond the West the sea. And East and West, the wanderthirst that will never let me be. It works in me like madness to bid me say goodbye. For the seas call and the stars call, and oh, the call of the sky," I quoted, the words finally spilling free.
James blinked in surprise at the intensity. In those few lines he began to understand what drove me to travel, to see new places.
"Would you mind if I joined you?" James asked after a moment, the words of the poem still echoing in his mind, reverberating with a hidden power.
"I wouldn't mind at all," I said with a smile, "long roads seem shorter with a friend at your side."
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