Standing within the heliport, I watched the helicopter from the International leave in the thick coastal fog. Through the heliport's glass doors, I recognized the powder-blue Camaro coming to a a stop before the doors. I lifted up my battered Samsonite suitcases and grungy parka...
Sketch: Vol. 43
, Article 12.
Available at: http://lib.dr.iastate.edu/sketch/vol43/iss3/12