florida

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the plane made me clausterphobic everyone was breathing the same musty air and children were screaming and everyone was overweight and sweating , i just read my book and hoped the ballerina that was talking on her phone about the yogurt she was eating outside the terminal would not sit next to me, because she talked loud, and not about important things. but what are important things really, i guess. important things are the stars and the grass and the way the cat i met on the beach today delicately pranced on the sand, she looked like she was gliding. important things are the little girls at the flea markets selling their mothers jewelry, and the smell in the kitchen right after courtney bakes. pages turned hundreds of times without being torn, and the big bright eyes of the young boy who stared at me from the back of his ragged fathers old clunker, with a dirty face and a superman action figure