Brooklyn Inn

A flight is canceled, they come back in tatters but at least you get a few more hours in their company. It's a strange sort of existence. You try to teach his young eyes about Washington Square Park squirrels and the magic underneath his feet; he practices high fives with unknown hands. It is the same thing. Later, along that polished dark wood, try to read the palms of a stranger, see how their old eyes fit into yours. You're not sure you're wearing the right glasses.

The summer evening is perfect, I took too many pills today I know but everything is falling apart at the seams and I don't have time just now. I check in online. Choose a window seat near the very back. If you hold on for just a little longer none of this will mean anything. Set the alarms. Take me home or take me anywhere.