I don't know the language. It was foreign. Which language, I'm not sure. But I knew some words, and some shapes, and the general layout of a few places. I walked the length of this main strip looking for the bookstore I enjoyed. I couldn't read them, but I liked the place, and the coffee shop nearby was good. Trams ran the streets and some cars and buses, but I only ever walked this area, unless someone else guided. There were restaurants and museums and other things that were at least friendly to my language, and I didn't have issues with getting around.
I went to get a haircut, and walked into a tandem building. The other half sold cell phones and accessories, not for a particular carrier but a sort of low-cost aggregator reseller. The hair cut side was one I had been to before, but when I opened the door, the room was empty. It was now just a long living room type hall, with wood-plank floors and empty windows. A few were boarded over with tacky plywood to keep out prying eyes. It felt freshly vacated, like they just stripped it down that morning. But the hair on my next tingled, because it felt like people had just fled the room, and someone could still be watching me. I checked the front again, and the sign was illuminated. I walked to the back, and opened the back door to an empty dirt lot with a few tiny weeds. Cars parked next door for the cell store. The nagging feeling of people watching still sat on me, so I walked around the outside back to the main street and headed towards the bookstore. Some stores were changed or closed, but most looked the same. Less people though, and I sprinted to the coffee shop, worried about what I would find.
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