Strays always follow me home.

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When I stepped off the plane I saw what looked like the remains of a party near the gate. A few used paper plates, napkins, and three balloon arrangements. A tired looking cleaning woman was moving toward, slowly. I made eye contact while reaching for one and she shrugged. So I took it with me. As I was walking to baggage claim Rose called to say she was laid out with a migraine, and to hop on a shuttle. I wasn’t sure I’d be able to take them on a shuttle, but when I got outside, it wasn’t so much outdoors as a tunnel. If I ditched them there, they’d just drift among the cabs and buses, prolly causing some sort of international security incident. I smiled at the shuttle driver and said yes, firmly, that the stray balloons were with me, and coming along.

I think they’re happier here with me anyway.

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