Today I finish working at the palace, and as I ride home for the last time my mind starts to reel back, sporadically. Outstanding moments flash up collectively like yellow highlights on a white page. Mixtures of different feelings welled up, a cocktail of sorts with the ingredients shaken together in a steel tumbler, confusingly. How did I get here? Gratitude, flattery, awe, confusion, and disappointment. They contradict, and they don’t care.
But! Ah, but the aftertaste is unmistakably singular. I could pinpoint it with the precision of a connoiseur. Because after everything else and more than anything else, I feel overwhelmingly lucky. Lucky to be part of it, lucky to be out of it. Lucky to have stepped out with flying colours. Lucky to have choices.
Then again, I don’t believe in luck.
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