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Short Short Story #11 (vacation complications)
JFK was exquisitely cold and empty at 1 am on a random Thursday as we stepped off the plane into a baggage claim area that was bustling in spite of the hour. Thirty-five minutes of staring up at the baggage escalator had done nothing to produce our second bag, my bag. We both joked about how losing her bag would’ve been a disaster. Mine? No problem.