I Didn’t Expect to Cry Over a Sloth
I was halfway up a muddy trail in La Fortuna, sweating through my shirt, when I saw it—a sloth, barely moving, camouflaged in the green. I’d been hoping for a story, something wild to post, but all I felt was this weird, heavy quiet.
I stood there longer than I meant to, watching it blink, wondering if I was missing something big or just tired. The truth: I wanted the trip to feel like a turning point. Instead, I was just another tourist, staring at a slow animal, waiting for a sign that never came. Sometimes travel is just you, your thoughts, and a sloth that doesn’t care you’re there.
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