Reflections from an Airport
It was 4 a.m. on a springlike day in February and I was in a taxi on my way to the airport, bound for one of my trips overseas. Following our exchange of “Good Mornings” and his confirmation that my destination was the airport, it was too dark to see the face of my driver as I sleepily wondered about his accent.
We rode in silence for several minutes before he spoke. “You have very heavy bags. Are you going to Africa?”