Mark’s Bloomin’ Journal

As an intersection it may not even exist but as a rather abrupt turning point it certainly does and comes upon one unexpectedly and most inconveniently. Avianca releases me from the fetid confines of the aluminum tube that has made transit from Cartagena to Miami possible. The flight’s terminus seems hostile in comparison to its departure point. The slow, silent, bag lugging shuffle along endless corridors and past various surly check points that take up space and time with nothing more productive in mind than a glare or a sneer at the entrants.

Toes touching the yellow line, passport, permanent resident card, customs declaration neatly and accurately filled out I glance about at fellow travellers with suitably discreet curiosity and not a care in the world much beyond an idle contemplation of why my line always appears to be the slowest of them all and a silent prayer that those now at the booth have been as accurate with their forms as I and we can all move along and get on with the next chapter of a busy day. I am beckoned to approach! Idle contemplation morphs to an immediate and tightly focused understanding, that of having an enemy. (more…)