originally posted on January 2, 2005:
terminal 2 feels cold and empty. the sliding glass doors are wide open and winter’s chill is filling the room.
an asian man sells cigarettes to travelers needing a quick but costly fix.
an old man stares impatiently at the blinking flight screen.
he’s waiting for her.
she’s been gone too long; he didn’t think he’d miss her this much. but now the laundry is piling up and he has no clean dishes left. he’s tired of microwave dinners and cold cereal. where is she?
he really does miss her.
