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Jõesuu, Estonia – August 2008
I watch the bus putter up the road and disappear. Next bus is tomorrow morning. I walk through the tiny village. I see no one. It takes me five minutes to locate the hostel. It’s a long cinder block building with perpendicular wings. As I approach it, I notice that the shades on most of the windows are drawn. I grasp the doorknob. It’s locked. I pound on the door. No answer. I make a lap around the building. No noise or shadows from within.
I had an email just two days ago from the manager. There would be room and I was welcome. Everything is okay. Out of the corner of my eye, I see a tall, big-boned woman standing in a vegetable garden. She chirps something at me.
“Tere. I’m sorry. I don’t understand.” I point to the hostel and shake…
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