The Layover

by Lacie Waldon

I wonder if it’s possible to be allergic to people. Like, proximity to them can make your personality begin to sneeze and hack.

“We were just hoping you were in Colorado Springs. Sterling is about to take us on the most amazing hike, and I thought you’d love it.” Irritation tags in to run the race with my nerves. “Why would I be in Colorado Springs? Northeast Air doesn’t even fly there.” “They fly to Denver.” “Okay.”

The mountains in Colorado are amazing.

I just want to feel it. Portland. The world. The rush I get every time I’m somewhere different, alone and untethered.

What man has eyelashes that thick anyway? You can’t trust someone who could be in a Maybelline commercial without even using mascara.

Today. That’s what it always comes down to, isn’t it? The choice to live life for today or the future. But what is the future, really? Does it even exist? I keep trying to reach it, but every time I wake up, it’s today again.