Chapter 8 - Jim

I look out the window, watching the ground come closer and closer. The  plane lands smoothly, and I lean back, yawning for the millionth time on this one-hour flight. I left the hospital at two AM, got home, showered, and slept for an hour and a half, before having to get up and get to the airport.

Feeling like I’m walking through a heavy fog, I get a coffee with extra espresso on my way to the baggage claim, and down the whole thing by the time I get my suitcase. There’s a car waiting for me, and it takes effort not to fall asleep on the drive over. Traffic is slow, and while I don’t want to miss anything, the thought of dozing off while stuck in a jam sounds nice right now.

Alyson works in the city. I don’t know where she works, or exactly what she does to even begin to describe it to someone, but she’s here. And so are three million other people. I won’t run into her. I shouldn’t even worry about it.

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