Light illuminates dust played through the air as everyone goes everywhere. It’s golden hour in the Charlotte airport.
Staring into that playful dust takes me to my playful past. A son drapes his arm over his dad’s shoulder. A woman walks by talking on her cellphone. The world draws me away from by book then back into my mind.
Book. World. Mind. Journal.
I’m amazed by the depth of our diversity. Where are we from? Who do we love? Where are we going? The dust in the air turns day into dream. Conversations, beeping shuttles and rustling feet fade to the background as I, entranced by that light, sit and rest like a silent protagonist monologue or a string of thoughts tangled and blended together.
The sun is now shining on my entire body from the window across the room and I can feel it when I close my eyes. When the sun begins to set you wonder where you’re going to rest your head, and with whom.
I first wrote this as a journal entry in May, 2013.
Highways and Hallowed Halls 