Good Morning Wherever

Worry About it Later

She came from a place we'd heard of. A place none of us had ever seen.

But the sounds from that place echoed up and down the hallways.

And if she didn't tell us much, we filled in the details around everything she had told us.

And we imagined.

And we dreamed.

And she smiled.

Because that's who she was. And she didn't want to be unfriendly.

Years later, she was back there. We were not.

We weren't cool enough. Or she was always too cool.

Or something.

But when the wind would blow in the summers, blowing cool off the water after warm days...

That's when we all would turn east.

And remember.

And maybe wonder. If she ever turned west. From five (or sometimes six) hours in the future... and looked back on us.