Back on the road to elsewhere

  I have travelled this road thousands of times. I know all of its many and varied potholes, simultaneously acknowledging their growth and avoiding contact with them in the manner of a disinterested parent. I know the intersection where the traffic always slows to a crawl and where, fifty yards later, it accelerates again as…

As quiet as an airport

I hadn’t seen you for a long time. I suspect we both knew that this first encounter after such a long break was going to be a little awkward. Looking back on it now, and even though we’ve known each other for decades, it was naïve to think we would just be able to slip…