I tack each letter to the wall behind the cash register. It feels very public, but I want them close to me while I work at the store all day.

On one wall, I put up a map of Santiago. On the opposite wall, I place a map of Tenerife.

My indecision is on display, as though knowing the names of the streets will help me choose a destination, choose a life.

"It isn't a life, it's a vacation," Lydia says when she comes to retrieve her dog who has wandered in to sit on my feet.

But she knows it's more than that.