Denver, 1998

Flying into what was, in the dream, Key West, from an unknown location, some time in the future. The terrain was nothing close to the island in reality, as it was hilly and steep and curvy, closer geographically to the Ozarks. There were tropical plants, blooming varieties of flowers, and various types of other vegetation not indigenous to the area. Palms were next to trees whose leaves were the reds and gold of fall season.

From the plane, through the terminal..

I got on a bus. A friend from St. Louis was driving. She was also the tour guide for the shuttle. As she pointed and recited anecdotes in her Turkish-inflected English, I wondered how she ended up here, her vast knowledge and potential unrealized, like myself.