more familiar than it should be, no doubt; it's just an airport. yet there's something about it, something about the transparent skybridge and the overly expensive restaurant on the second floor and the big glass wall opposite the desks that gives me a feeling of comfort. i've been here.
i step out into the air, caught off guard for a moment (as i always am) by the cold. my breath appears in the air in front of me, white wisps of air caught in the frigid morning. i contemplate the peanut stand just a few feet away. Nuts for Nuts! the banner reads, and I smile despite my best efforts.
my name draws my attention. i scan the eternal parking lot for a familiar face before my eyes rest on a woman with short brown hair and a yellow coat. "eliza!" she calls. i run forward and throw my arms around my grandmother, a sixty-something woman who looks to be in her late thirties. her eyes are surrounded by sun lines and in her hand is an egg-shaped chocolate wrapped in crinkly paper. "qué bueno verte! te he echado de menos."
i bite into the kinder egg, the rich, milky taste of the chocolate filling my mouth. feels like home. she beams and leads me to the car, already talking about my cousins who are just so excited and how my aunt is selling more rugs than ever and my uncle ran a marathon and a feeling of safety settles over me. I can see the buildings far off in the distance and the smoke rising and I close my eyes and breathe.