the final descent. i'm ridiculously feeling cold, been asleep the whole flight,
and probably the week of eighty degrees in connecticut doesn't help. across my
seatmates i see the clear sky, the ragged yellow remains of a long summer sunset
glowing in the northwest. which hill is murphy dome, with my parents' house? a
dip of the wings and it's silvery ponds and the river bright among the green
trees. 'welcome to fairbanks,' says the voice from cockpit. 'it's just about one
am, and sixty-four degrees. on behalf of myself and the crew, i'd like to thank
you for choosing alaska airlines.'

thank you, alaska airlines.

sitting on my bed, and the delicate aspen leaves show dark against the pale blue
sky. in connecticut this light would be eight-thirty. the cat's curled in a
furry yin yang at the foot of the bed, and on the cd player in the bathroom, i
see my sister has burned a copy of the same cake album i downloaded last week.