September 27, 2013
It’s only been six months since I have been on an airplane
and I am psyched to join the masses in line, jostling for room in the overhead
compartment. Several people had to park their luggage at the back of the plane
(along with the survivors) and agree to separate from their stuff. I smiled
from 7C, knowing I caught a great seat since I have been at the airport from
the beginning of time. My niece flew out at 6 and my flight wasn’t until 7:50
so I had time to have a few cups of Dunn Brothers coffee, eat my bit soggy
mozzarella and tomato sandwich while people watching over the top of my thick hardcover
thriller novel. I toss it on the seat
next to me after scanning the last page, leaving it for someone to bond with.
Am hoping no one takes it as a bomb or anthrax dusted. Hate to think the
detectives tracking me down and arresting me at an inopportune moment.
The flight attendants roamed the aisles with some sort of
notebook thingee for rent, served me up warm freeze-dried tasting coffee laced
with powdered milk and white sugar…shudder. I passed-up the Cheeszits, other
snacks I had never heard of and chatted with my neighbor about her grandkids, politely
scoured their photos and murmured my approval. She is planning to convince her
daughter to move back to the land of snow and ice from Seattle. Good luck with
that, I thought.
Shivered with soaking in the array of people hugging hello
at the Baggage Claim door, awaiting my chauffer. He barreled in and hauled my
bags into the Chevy. Familiar roads blurred by the window as I talked of my
life adventures from the last two years, since my escape from the PNW. It has
been raining and under 60 degrees since I landed. Boots, a jacket and gloves
found smashed in the corner of the pockets for good luck.
Off to enjoy Greek food, their specialty beverage which
resembles turpentine, and visit with family.
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