My Excursion Through Unforeseen Storms Allow me to recount the time life gave me a rainstorm when I'd just stuffed a sunscreen. It was the year I moved to another nation alone, grasping two bags and a heart loaded with gullible hopefulness. I'd envisioned cobblestone roads, comfortable bistros, and Instagram-commendable nightfalls. All things being equal, I got a little condo with a flawed roof, a language I butchered day to day, and a forlornness so thick I could taste it. --- The Accident Landing The primary month felt like a terrible romantic C omedy montage. Picture this me, remaining in a supermarket, gazing at yogurt marks like they were hieroglyphics, sweat dribbling down my back as the clerk ran through an inquiry I didn't have any idea. I'd grin anxiously, gesture, and say si (a frantic remainder of secondary school Spanish) in a nation where they talked zero Spanish. My certainty broke quicker than the container of pasta sauce I dropped in path three. Around...