That’s why I’d let myself get caught. Seattle, Summer ‘09 I’d thought about her more than once. Just random thoughts like, I wonder how she’... doing. I could have checked, of course, but I think I’d rather continue with the fantasy of her kicking her habit and getting her life back together than be confronted with the truth; that she was back on the street, strung out, turning tricks for just one more hit. Or, just as likely, on a coroner’s slab in the city morgue, listed as yet another Jane. You meet me at the airport, your beautiful cocoa/olive skin is like a ray of sunshine in a sea of angry, hurried people. Your smile has a glow that can only be matched by the most brilliant double rainbow after a storm. I walk out of the god forsaken TSA area and have no problem picking out my beautiful host among the crowd. Walking up to you, I just smile and look into your face, both of us standing there, not knowing what to say. I break the ice and lean down to give you a kiss on your cheek. More

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