the outer rings of going "home" ... page three

living in a small confined room with two girls for months at a time certainly wears at ones nerves, and going home to two rather overprotective and questioning parents is not necessarily the refuge it appears to be.

but a few times a year, i had the ability to be completely alone in transition. nobody was going to bother me in dfw or ohare or wherever my connecting flight was ... i was just there, reading, writing, watching. for five to seven hours of these blessed days, i found myself alone. fascinated by the clarity that would enter my head pushing its enemies out while fingering the deadbolt on the door, i would cuddle up to my walkman and a camel light in a smoking cage for a brilliant hour. for four hours, i was suspended over a quiet america that didn't have any judgements at 30,000 feet.

if i slept, if i dreamt, if i breathed, it was alone with a couple hundred strangers.