A Girl Can Dream

Sophia

In the taxi over to the hotel, I flipped through my passport. I tried to keep my cool as the agent at Heathrow placed my very first stamp onto one of the pages in my book. I wanted to commemorate it somehow, but I didn’t want to seem like a naive tourist.

Instead, I clicked a picture and texted it to Matt with a thumbs-up emoji.

With the time difference, I wasn’t sure what time it was in Dallas, or even if he had managed to get a flight back to Seattle.

I had little time the night before to pack, but I was surprised to find that Mr. Fraser had added an international cell phone package for me to use while I was in the UK.

It would make things easier when it came to communication with my boss, but I tried not to overdo it with texts that weren’t work-related.

It was a little sad that at twenty-nine years old, I never made it out of the country before, but after nailing this assignment, that might change.

Who knew? Maybe next year I would have a full book of stamps that I would be