“Ester is my aunt,” said Klaus, stowing their luggage as he talked. “I’m taking her on a special holiday. She’s always wanted to cross Europe by train. We spent some time in Paris first and we’ll spend some time in Istanbul at the other end.” He beamed. “It’s wonderful. Slight mix-up with the tickets – we were meant to be in a private car- but otherwise it’s all going brilliantly.”
It was supposed to be the perfect summer. I was going to camp out, build forts, have adventures, and score the championship-winning goal in the New England All-Star Under-12 Soccer Tournament. When I wasn’t doing those things, I was going to stay up late with my friends, eat as much junk food as I wanted, and pretty much do whatever I felt like until sixth grade started in September. It was going to be epic: the all-time, best summer ever.
Instead, I ended up in Boring, Illinois.
No, I’m not kidding. There’s a town called Boring. And it is.