This monologue is an incantation of forgetting, one last lonely stroll down memory lane following the footsteps of shared memories: a childhood in Iran, snatches of life in English university towns, and then the streets and cafés of Vienna, Berlin, Paris, and Budapest -- every last one a land of inexorable exile. With this journey, Aiat Fayez joins the ranks of European writers of exile, becoming one with their imagination, their tragic destiny, their quest for self through the act of writing.