They say travel broadens the mind. But if you move enough times, it doesn’t broaden you—it scatters you.
This is not a travelogue. You will find no recommendations for restaurants in Naples or walking tours in London. This is a story about the residue that cities leave upon the human soul.
The narrator, known only as the Transient, has lived in twenty-two homes across a decade of restless motion. From the suffocating heat of the Italian South to the frozen silence of Stockholm, the blinding glare of Los Angeles, the electric anxiety of New York, and the damp grey of London, he has been running—not toward a destination, but away from the weight of his own history.
Stripped of digital distractions and forced to carry his memories in the physical world of paper, stone, and skin, he must confront the ultimate question of the modern nomad: How do you be a single person when you have left pieces of yourself in a dozen different time zones?
Places is a geological survey of a fractured identity, a journey through the “heavy water” of memory, and a search for the only house that can never be taken away: the one you build inside yourself.