The train swayed gently back and forth on the tracks, cutting a steel path through the tail end of English countryside. Quiet chatter filled the car and people sat scattered on the leather seats. Red light poured through the windows as the sun set over the distant hills and houses as the train headed out of the country and into the city.

Sitting with eyes glued on the passing scenery was a young American. She wasn't going anywhere in particular, just away from where she'd been. Wherever the train happened to stop was where she would get off and call her new home for a few weeks. The mess of a reflection stared back at her from the window. Unruly short auburn hair with, bangs held back with a single pin, surrounded a pale face and a pair of shining brown eyes. She sighed, a little embarrassed by her own appearance and let her gaze fall into her lap.

Molly was never in one place for very long. She loved travel and wanted to see the world more than anything else. Her bright eyes were always eager for new sights. The lifestyle was lonely, but she'd made it that way and had sacrificed a lot to keep it that way. She'd made herself a set of rules, promising herself above all that she would never get close to anyone. That she would never stay in one place longer than two weeks and after that she would never return. To break these rules would over complicate her lifestyle and she would hate to leave a friend behind.

"Next stop, Dalston," A muffled voice announced over the speakers.

"Dalston.." Molly lifted her single leather bag onto one shoulder and made her way to the door. With a yawn, she leaned against a pole by the sliding door. The train slowed and finally opened to the small station. Taking a deep breath of the non-train air to cleanse her lungs, she took her first step onto the tiled floor, her worn out shoes creating a soft padding noise as she made her way out onto the street.

Using a skill acquired only after years of traveling, Molly found a hotel with a vacant room in under an hour, in the dark. She settled into the bed leaving the bag forgotten on the stained chair in the corner of the room. Her eyes focused in on a camera, pulled from a pocket of the bag out of habit and she held it tight to her heart.

Her entire life was on the camera. Pictures of where she had come from and everything she'd seen. Landmarks and food and interesting plants or buildings. Absent, however, from her collection were any people. As part of her number one rule, she wouldn't ever remember anyone she happened to meet or talk to. They wouldn't have a place in her camera and therefore their face would fade into the white noise of her travels.

Suddenly bored of the pictures, Molly turned the camera off and flipped onto her side. She was excited to explore her new home in the morning. It was strange, she thought, that even after visiting so many places that she would still be excited to walk new streets and see new things. A smile lit her face as she drifted into a light sleep.

A/N- So basically, if you're reading this that means you've taken time out of your day to read something I've written. This is a weird concept for me. I'd like to know what you think.. I guess that would help me a lot considering I have no idea what the f I'm doing. Anyway.. Thanks?