We flew home this morning on an American Airlines. From NYC. At 8:30 am.
I would be lying if I said I wasn't scared.
The air felt heavy in the taxi on our trip to the airport. Aside from armed guards, there was no serious security scrutiny. Our ascent was marked by my twitching looks at the skyline.
Just pensive quiet.
We flew home this morning by happy circumstance. We missed our plane last night (negligence) and spent our extra night with Chris who works as a webmaster/designer/geek extraordinaire of this place with beautiful expensive furniture. He guided us through the City's maze of deliciousness to and from food and drink, past tidbits of conversation like this:
"So, do you do origami?"
We stood on line for cupcakes from Magnolia. And ate them in the park, wearing smiles. Not speaking much or loudly.
And the breeze blew. And a tree grew in Brooklyn (though we were not there to see it).
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