"I sometimes wonder how many ways can one person live, how many different places can a single life explore, how many thousands of ways could I have taken the same steps as I am taking right now and how many times would the context be the same?" I scribble it quickly into my notebook then scratch it out slowly and memorize each word I destroy, I sound too rediculous, too desperate to be unfathomable.

I sigh loudly and I stetch my arms out over the uncomfortable airplane seating, out over the awkward plastic seat dividers that prevent anyone from laying down and into the thin passageway that runs around the interior of the air bus. I hit a stuardess in the arm and she glares over at me for a moment before I mouth, "Sorry," and pull my earphones away from my head slightly to see if she has any demands for retribution.

No? Ok then, I let go of the thin metal band that runs up over my messy black hair and the music's volume kicks back up to a level that blocks out all the noisy airplane noise that is prone to giving me head aches. On the CD Lou Reed lazily sings, "...who cares that it makes plants grow, who cares what it does since you broke my heart, who loves the wind, who cares that it makes breezes, who cares what it does since you broke my heart, bah bah bah bah, who loves the sun?"

I stare out the tiny window I am provided and its all iced over from the chilling hieghts we have reached, outside though, a blanket of white clouds is reflecting a piercing white light though the icy sheat, the white heat can almost be felt. I tug my blanket out of its plastic compartment and attempt to cover myself with in it.

I can't sleep on airplanes, but I always pretend to as hard as I can. Sometimes time will speed up or slow down, its all luck. Life is all luck, if you ask me, "Bah, bah, bah, bah, who loves the sun?"

"Not just anyone."

The loud ding of the seat belt sign pervades my headphones and I sit up slowly, hands fumbling over the bulky seatbelt. I imagine they've always used this kind of seatbelt since airplanes first started to be commercially used. The plane touches down and its another 30 minutes of circling the small airport before the shy transport can allow the destination to extend its twisted, worm of a bridge out and clamp onto the smooth aerodynamic exterior.

I wait until everyone has had their fun waiting on their feet to be freed from the airplane then pull my yellow backpack out from under my seat, stuff my CD player into it roughly and pick through my mess to see if I'm forgetting anything important. The flight attendants smile half-assed, the boredom inside leaking out their yawning grins and sleepy eyes.

I can tell the air hub I am about to walk in is ancient, the connection bridge is cut open on the edges and little dust filled slivers of light divide the passage into a checkerboard. A child propped it's pacifier and it sits now at the edge of the platform, already pretty pathetic looking, dull colors smudged with grey dust.

I step out into the terminal, the air is almost shifting before my eyes with pollen and smoke, it smells picturesqe, exactly like fall. This is Winters' International Airport? The terminal is sloped downward and it opens into a small courtyard with a stream running thorugh it, at the top of the opening there are several rolled up metalist sheets. For a town named Winters they sure emphasize the warmer aspects of their airports.

I sit down against a rigid aitport chair, complete with bright orange padding and uncomfortable plastic ridges just under your shoulders. My cell phone vibrates insistantly against my thigh and I dig into my pocket to save the call, "Hello?" I ask the reciever.

"Ness? how are you honey?" My mother was watching something loud on the television set in the background, "Did your flight land yet?"

"I just got off the plane, mom," I leaned back and stared up though the polygonal skylights that ran along the exterior of the airport, a crow was pecking at the window joint carefully.

"Oh good, how long is this layover for?" She muted the program as it started to blare a loud advertisement.

"A long time, they're supposed to call me when the plane lands," I leaned back farther and a large brick building set upon the hillside caught my eye, it was surrounded by a tangling black fence and it looked as though there were more, identical buildings sprawled out behind it.

"Hum," she replied, I said it back to her, "hum."

I turned my head to its side, I realized that it looked so warm because there were nothing but pine trees all around. I bet it never seemed cold until it started to snow. "Well," The volume on the telly kicked back up, "I had better go Ness, I'll talk to you later right?"

"Right," I Sat back up, "Bye."

"Bye honey, have fun," She turned the volume up a little higher and I caught a few words, "Miranda, you can't do this to," then she hung up.