I have only flashes of memory from my trip home from Buenos Aires—passing in and out of delirium under a bank of seats in the Miami airport…thinking I am still in Miami after arriving at La Guardia…burning up as I board a bus to Providence.

I’m freezing now in my bus seat. Someone sits next to me. A black girl, heavy. “I’m so sorry. I’m sick.” I expect her to move, but she doesn't. “You poor baby.” My head is in her lap. She’s soft. She covers me with something, gently strokes my head. I sleep--real sleep--for the first time in so long.

I wake up as we pull into the Providence terminal. The seat beside me is empty. She’s gone. Maybe she was never there at all. Or maybe she was an angel.

The Late Arrival

Glenn