Each month, write a new collection.
On that anticipated Christmas eve, we busied ourselves in airport shops, studying Moroccan lamps and leather pointed shoes. The layover stretched on as we settled into a bank of orange plastic chairs fora nap. The loudpeaker routinely rattled the windows with eardrum shattering announcements. At last, hovering between time zones, our directions shepherded us toward the passenger line, then onto the freighter plane. Melodic words buckled our seat belts for the last leg of the trip. We de-boarded to predawn darkness. There with the gleaming smile, in orange patterned garb from head to foot, as John welcomed us to Benin.
I love it!