Return on Investment

Fingers tremble at the weight of the bags. Nerves tremble at the Everything Else. You calculate hours, count minutes. A mistral wind blows through the canyon and ruffles the leaves, but didn't the summer sun return at last? 

So tell me your plans, tell me your life, he says kindly. But to pour one's heart out to a bank branch manager and evaluate its weight in figures and coins; I shudder and paint another story entirely. My credit card expands and I think maybe it was a good one, after all. Pack it in with the rest of the loose ends and pray the bag will survive the journey. 

New York lies quiet in the distance, impossible to see or hear, and still

I know it's there, glittering with promise and whispers of dreams forgotten. If I calm my racing mind, for just a moment, don't I hear it calling, can't I feel it still move slowly in my veins? 

Four hours until liftoff. 

New York, honey, 

I'm coming for you.