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Mar 2013
I'm in an airport. The walls are dark, burnt orange. The floors are grey. It's dimly lit, almost dark. It looks like a school. But it's an airport...but it's a school...
Everyone's here. There she is, and her, her, him...they're all here. All of them. Where are we going?
There? We're going there? "It's a class trip." But I don't have class with everyone here.
We're just friends.
What time is it? It's dark.
There you are. I was looking for you. Wait...who's that? Haven't I seen her before? Why are your legs covered? Your face looks mad...are you okay?
___

I'm in a hallway. A bedroom? My old bedroom? No, the airport, a hallway. Who are you? No, I know you, but what's your name? I forget.
You're kind. You smile, I smile, I know what you want to say.
We're in a hallway, on the floor. By the wall. There's a book, it's your book. "Read it." But when I look I can't see, the letters are blurry, the words are mixed up across the paper. Where are my glasses? There. They don't help anyway.
You kiss my forehead. I'm happy. I lay on your shoulder, leaning against this wall. A wall or a dresser, are we really in a hallway, and airport hallway?
You kiss me. You really kissed me, on my lips.
I'm sad. No, not angry...disappointed.
Not yet, I'm still with her. I want to be with her.
"You shouldn't."
I know. I don't want to. But I do, don't I? I look down.
I start to feel okay, I start to know what I want.
I look at you...
___

It's definitely a hallway now. This airport hallway. You're there. Where did you come from?
Don't get mad.
I know you're mad, please don't be.
Fine, be mad. At least he kisses my forehead.
Your legs are fine, you use them to walk away.
___

I'm still in this airport, only where everyone is.
We're leaving. We're on our way. Wait, my pocketknife. I can't take my pocketknife on the plane.
Where can I put it?
You're here again. She is too. You have crutches, I thought your legs were fine.
Can you hold my pocketknife? I can't bring it with me.
You looks so annoyed.
I'm sorry....
am I?
___

We're alone. We must be on the bridge, boarding the plane.
You look mad.
I'm confused. She left. Can we read the book again?
"I gave you a chance, you wouldn't."
No, I couldn't, couldn't.
You board the plane. I turn around.
___

My bedroom. My bedroom now.
It's light.
Stephanie Keer
Written by
Stephanie Keer
  1.4k
   --- and Michael W Noland
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