Tuesday, October 11, 2011


The direction of the wind determined the direction from which the planes arrived & departed. Always into it, never with the wind at their backs.

He would watch them come or go. Only ever one side of the transaction.

When the wind blew from the south, it was a kind of double-whammy. The wind brought with it memories of his past, tangible, teasing. He was aware of it even without the planes. A point of origin. Not the original one, but important enough to provide Cartesian coordinates for all subsequent geography.

& memorable enough so that, when the planes departed, moving right to left across the windows of his loungeroom, heading south, he longed to be on them.


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