Field Trip

Check out my piece on The Flip today.  Click through below.

Everyone stands to disembark.  The man in front of me keeps his red neck pillow around him like a clown collar or one of those things you put around dogs to keep them from licking stitches.  My first evening spent alone in an airport terminal begins in T-minus fifteen minutes.

The airport is empty, save for a suspicious-looking VIP lounge filled with relaxed, dark-haired men leaning back in leather club chairs, hands twitching for cigars.  Scarface meets Wall Street meets Mexico City International.  Rain falls outside, wetting the tarmac and streaking the glass windowpanes…


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