I’m still half asleep. My pack is unzipped, my boots are unlaced and I’m wearing my shorty jammies and holding my bra.
Which was I? Turns out, I was a jumper. Yup, I jumped. Bloodied, battered and bruised, but successfully reunited with Dena! Ah, success! And sure, then there was something-- if you must know--about the train stopping and reversing and hundreds of heads popping out the windows to watch and the conductor coming out shaking his head to tell us in his best broken English that we had jumped off at the employee station and Prague was still 10 km down the tracks where the doors open on their own….but whatever….I jumped! That’s what I choose to remember.