I haven’t been so homesick in a long time, so homesick that I devised ways of avoiding tasks of the present to stretch out extensions of yesterday into tomorrow. Walking out of the jet bridge in BR, a departing flight to Saint Louis in the adjacent gate tempted me a bit too much. Would begging and an absurd amount of tears convince the security people that I had boarded the wrong flight and that I desperately needed to return to Saint Louis? Even now… I wonder…
The tragedy of walking blindly into places of flashing red, with eyes wide open, is that there is no one to blame. Do it enough and you won’t want to face the person staring back in the mirror. What could be sadder?
American Idol, sorry Frankie, can’t vote… they’re all stars to me. :)