" Next time I'm taking the bus." She thought to herself as she whipped into an empty spot among many in a seemingly desolate airport parking lot. She sat there for a few minutes, staring at her red acrylic fingernails, freshly manicured, curled around the steering wheel. The heater which had been blasting was now off with the car and the heat was ebbing away. She loved those silent solitary moments. She loved to pause like this when she could, even just for a few seconds to look around before slipping back into the whirling momentum of her existence.
Fancy Whitman was her given name. She never changed it. Both marital partners had the wrong last name for her taste. She was a bit self admittedly narcissistic in that way. Roger Dancer then Erin Clancy. Both WRONG. Besides, she attached herself to a theory that keeping her name would also keep her independent. She was right, to a fault.
Her curly dark brown hair exploded into the windy air as soon as she opened door. Forgot to put on the hat. She sighed as she struggled to get the little knit beanie on her thrashing locks. Must she always have to face some sort of humiliation like this because of her wandering mind? She knew she would have to fix it later but wanted to get the fuck out of the car already so she just jammed it all under there like a rastafarian and went about the business of moving into the day.
Crossing the empty parking lot with her neat little suitcase she began to feel a sense of excitement for the first time since she made this decision. Her heart leaped. Was she really doing this? Was she really going to pull it off? She made it to the shuttle and was hurling toward the airport in moments. Everything going according to plan. Perfect time to fix the hat. She marveled at how much easier it was travelling light! Less to put down and less to forget. All she had was a carry on roller and a small purse. Only a few changes of clothes and some toiletries. Oh yes, and money, lots and lots of money. Hair tamed and hands gripping her carry on .She almost became aroused at the constricting feeling of the money belt against her abdomen. The cellophane around it. A short audible breath escaped her, almost like a little laugh, the driver raised an eye in the rearview. Her eyes diverted out the window. The shuttle thumped, then glided up the ramp which read DEPARTURES......
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