New York City near the airport has all the harsh lighting and industrial construction of a dystopian landscape, and I say as much to Katie on the cab ride home.
"It's like that around all airports, isn't it?" she replies, smiling, and I agree before I go back to staring out the window.
After the cool, dry air of the Nevada desert, New York feels like a rainforest. We climb out of the cab at our apartment and I can feel my pores widen and drink in the humidity like a thirsty man leaping into a river.
One year ago today: Strained
Two years ago today: My Family
Three years ago today: The Elusive Glasses Are Somehow My Fault
Six years ago today: 11/25/10 everyone