The Field Below
She met me at the airport. I found this offensive, as if she thought I couldn’t even be trusted to make it thirty miles northeast in a rideshare and somehow arrive in one uninjured piece. I had once dived out of a rideshare in the middle of one of LA's infamous traffic jams and then? Then, I didn’t even break a sweat, a nail, a heel, nothing. I could obviously navigate small-town Indiana. Kelly had always been like this though, overbearing and mildly infringing. Instead of scoffing or rolling my eyes or saying I can’t believe you didn’t trust me, Lee, I hoisted my bag further up my shoulder and gestured for her to lead the way.
(I had not always been like this.)