Tranzits Ejot Pie Tevis ★ Extended & Trusted

The highway stretched ahead, a silver ribbon under the Latvian moon. To his left, the dark silhouette of the pine forest stood like a silent audience. To his right, the occasional car blurred past, its headlights momentarily blinding him before swallowing the world back into shadow. He didn’t try to hitch a hike. This journey wasn’t about speed; it was about the distance he was willing to put behind him to prove he was coming back for good. “Es nāku pie tevis...” he hummed under his breath.

She looked at the long, empty road behind him and then back into his eyes. A small, knowing smile broke across her face—the kind of smile that meant the music hadn't stopped after all. Tranzits Ejot Pie Tevis

The neon sign of the roadside café flickered, casting a rhythmic blue glow over Ralfs’ boots. He didn’t stop. He couldn’t. The bassline of an old cassette tape seemed to pulse in his very marrow, timing his stride to a beat that had been driving him forward since sunset. He was "walking to her"—just like the song said. The highway stretched ahead, a silver ribbon under

The phrase (Walking to You) is the title of a beloved song by the Latvian synth-pop group Tranzīts . It’s an anthem of longing, the rhythm of footsteps on a long road, and the unwavering pull of someone waiting at the end of it. He didn’t try to hitch a hike

He reached the garden gate. The wood was slightly more weathered, the latch a bit rustier. He stood there for a moment, listening to the morning birds wake up. Then, the front door creaked open.

"I told you," he said, his voice raspy from the night air. "I was on my way."

Here is a story inspired by those lyrics and that signature 90s nostalgia.