I’m in the airport and the sun is starting to rise. I can make it out in the distance. The sky is...

I’m in the airport and the sun is starting to rise. I can make it out in the distance. The sky is orange, pink and I think there is a small smudge of lavender that is keeping the two from each other. Men look at me like I’m lost. Women look at me like I’m running away from something. Children see me and wish that they were able to go off on their own. I’m at a small bar that’s by my boarding gate. The woman gave me a beer and said it was an early birthday gift. Said that I deserve something for being able to get out of this town. This all is so foreign to me. All of this moving. All of this waiting. I cannot find a familiar face. But what did I expect. This town is bigger than what my window shows me. I’m finding my words, my meaning, tucked beneath pages of journals and inside of sleeves of my silk shirts. This is foreign to me. But at least by doing this I will be able to see myself in a different colors of the sunrise.