My buttocks ache against the padded seat whilst Eliza, or at least the curved part of her, presses to the dingy wall. Shittypie, my only constant friend, sucks power from the socket in the wall like a parasite. It is needed energy for us both. Boredom on the two and a half hour flight from Atlanta to Houston is the enemy.
Depending on delays that have so far plagued my journey incessantly, I may have something sucked from ME after my arrival. That thing being money. I shall have to stay the night in that dreaded city - in an overly expensive hotel near the aeroport, surely (going into the city would be asinine) - if I miss the connection to Midland. Perhaps it would be fitting for my first night in the dreaded homeland after a thirty-nine month absence, almost to the day. Whichever happens, I shall be sure to record it here to be stored away in the entries table of the polaris database on the stoat-shittypie.
Boarding will begin soon.
The Smaller One lies in bed, most likely sleeping. As I wandered the terminal approximately an hour ago and whilst I ate a feeble crispy chicken sandwich at an unnamed fast food joint, I felt displaced as I have not since surely the atrocious six months I spent in this country during the first half of 2003. I felt frightened of being in bed in Seminole and attempting to sleep. The dread faded as it was gradually supplanted by weariness. The latter is winning. I count it a blessing.
I am thinking of her. Our shibboleth chants its mantras in my mind.
Boarding has begun.
