The Traveller is a generous God. In return for seconds, minutes, hours, days, years spent in trains, cars, walking through cities, villages, forests, sea shores, He gives me souls.
Autonomous. Authentic. These words remain in my head from a discussion I had with a friend last night. I kept thinking of them this morning, before I got out of bed, trying to understand their importance. In conversations with friends, thoughts put on paper for my next book or ideas I got from other people, I returned to the same issue: slavery.