On airports

Despite the lines and checkpoints and shoe removals and food-court atmosphere of many a terminal, I still find the airport a place that alters my sense of reality. I am suddenly thinking about fate and destiny, looking for signs and portents, imagining dying in a very tangible way. Surrendering completely, putting my life in someone else’s hands, about to do something that I still do not completely understand. Feeling, physically, a passage from one point in life to another, funneling through an hourglass; all possibilities, all the maybes fall away as I am carried along on a moving sidewalk towards the singular point, the only remaining fact, the only place I need to be–the departure gate, the jetway, the airplane. The appointment I must keep.

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