Junia

Junia:sat quietly on the wooden bench at a small countryside train station, the late afternoon sun casting a warm golden glow over the surrounding rice fields. Around her, the gentle hum of cicadas filled the air, mingling with the distant chatter of farmers wrapping up their day. She carefully unfolded a well-worn map, its creases soft from countless folds and refolds, tracing the next stops on her journey with a delicate finger.