On the flight from Chicago to Zurich I began reading The Stand by Stephen King, a book either loaned or given to me (I'm not sure which) by my brother. It is a book about a worldwide outbreak of a superflu that kills off 99.6% of the human, dog and horse populations. During the entire almost 8 hour flight, the woman sitting behind me coughed incessantly. I could feel the staccato wind of her coughs hit my right shoulder over and over and over.

I sat next to a 30-something man named Chad who is built like my Uncle Bret: very broad chest and shoulders, well-muscled. He was a born protector and kept trying to take care of me...asking me what I wanted to eat or drink before the carts came by, plucking my garbage from my hands as the trashbags made their rounds, helping me into my coat when I got cold and couldn't quite manage to get it all the way on by myself. All done in a very polite and respectful way. Chad was flying from Zurich to Dubai and then finding his way into Afghanistan. He said he worked for the Department of State. I didn't ask for details about the job and he didn't offer them. Instead he told me about his brand-new son, Aiden, born about Christmas time, his first child and his wife's third. You could tell he was a tough man and not used to crying much, but his eyes got a little watery talking about Aiden and how he wished he didn't have to ship out again so soon. I thought, but had the tact not to say (for once), something that I think we were both thinking: that I hoped he got back to his son alive and in one piece. Instead as we were lining up to exit the aircraft I said, "Have fun with your new son!" I'm a poet and don't know it, as my dad would say.

Since I got back Madrid has been damp, as if to welcome me. Tonight I walked back from the Cercanías station through a misty fog, my boot heels clacking loudly on the dark and empty streets, my head slightly elevated from the 2.5 glasses of wine I drank with dinner. It was glorious.

My building always smells of Spanish cooking, the elevator of stale cigarette smoke and cologne.