Ride

She stepped off the plane and said, “Damn. Is this where I wanted to go?”

But she had no answer for herself, ’cause she couldn’t remember  where she’d wanted to go. If she ever knew. More than likely she’d boarded the plane to go for a ride. Enjoyed the ride. And now she was here.

The name of the place escaped her. but it seemed pleasant enough, kind of. The people friendly enough, maybe. She checked her purse for passport, credit card. Couldn’t find them.

She didn’t know what she’d do here. How to start supporting herself. But she knew what she needed, pulled that tiny airline bottle of liquor out of her purse. And started another ride.

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