
Photo credit Mike Swift
Sunday night. My suitcase yawns open in front of me, empty and waiting. My flight leaves in eight hours. Piles of clean clothes encircle me as I kneel by the case and examine each possible outfit. Where should I start? An unfamiliar question for a seasoned and decisive traveler who usually has her bags packed in record time. I’d been looking forward to Un-Con for a year, but that was before June, before Mom. Now, I don’t want to go. The hollowness inside me goes too...
Published on November 21, 2014 12:15