Today is Monday, October 13, 2008 it is 3 a.m. and it is hard to say where we have been. In stilettos she dodges a baby carriage while heading toward the counter. I am trailing, wildly slinging a sleek tan leather bag over my left shoulder. At 1:15 in a bright western sky I am wide-eyed when I slap my Arizona ID onto the cold formica in plea for two first-class tickets on the 1:30 flight. The disheveled attendant shakes her head. “You know your flight lands at 3:30 and your return is at 4:00? Impossible.” My hand shimmies to my hip and I turn to walk into the bathroom; unsuccessfully struggling to muster hysterical laughter. In the mirror, my reflection taunts me; the journey bringing us face to face with ourselves. Piercing my thoughts, from
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