Just a little longer.
Grateful for a non red-eye flight which means I can take my time getting ready. I wash and dry the dishes and brew the coffee without rushing. I stick a load of clothes in the laundry. I have time to make everyone do everything they need to do for themselves.
I am missing them and I have t even left yet.
I take a few deep breaths. He thinks it odd that I still feel this way each time I travel even though I’ve flown so many times.
I can feel tears welling up in my eyes; involuntary reaction due to anxiety.
I kill time by downloading movies, writing emails, and drinking a milkshake.
No one in the middle.
No. I definitely have never seen all of this movie.
I had forgotten just how dark the highways are here. I can’t tell if I have my high beams on or if the Jeep’s lights are just so bright because the air around us is so overwhelmingly black.
So good to be here.
The roosters are calmer this morning. I wish I could trade the sounds of roosters for the sounds of dogs that I’ll be returning to back home.
Twenty more minutes before the coffee shop opens.
I try my best to tiptoe through the room but the floors still creak underneath my footsteps.
I start to tear up as I sprinkle cinnamon into my coffee.
I opt for the bacon and goat cheese empanada. There are little bits of red bell pepper in it. The pastry is crisp and flaky, yet soft. We should have come here for lunch yesterday.
The construction guys are back. He’s talking about how he killed his dahlias last year and how he can’t get an avocado to sprout. They always wait until 8:30 to begin.
Molly is coming down the front stairs as we make our way into the lobby to check out. I hope I run into Molly the next time I’m here.
We take the 128 out of town. I can see myself having a ranch here one day. Yeah. I can see that.
What element of this will I be able to recreate or continue to live out once I return home?
The wisdom of the body.