Page 165 of That Last Summer

I got distracted talking to you and I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going. I’m at the airport.

I look around in case something looks familiar, but they renovated the terminal a few years ago and I have no idea where I am. And, as if that’s not enough, there’s nobody around. Where is everybody?

Fortunately, there’s some signage indicating... the exit? Shit! How is that possible? I’m not even on the right floor! How did I end up here?

Priscila:

Ok, I appear to be in “arrivals” instead of “departures”

River Phoenix:

That’s impossible. Physically impossible.

Hugoisthestar:

It’s not impossible. It’s complicated as fuck though. Even on purpose.

Marco Polo:

I’m laughing my ass off

River Phoenix:

How many beers did he have? Send us your location, Marcos.

I head toward the exit, looking for the stairs, an elevator, anything that’ll take me back down to the departures floor. I write my last words while I put on my headphones; I open the music app on my phone and Alphaville’s “Forever Young” fills my ears.

Priscila:

I’m not going to talk to any of you anymore. It’s your fault I got lost! I’m gonna miss the plane because of you!

Adri:

Priscila, where the hell are you?

Marco Polo:

At the airport

River Phoenix:

At the airport

Hugoisthestar:

At the airport

Priscila:

At the airport

Adri:

Okay, but where in the airport?

Marco Polo:

Arrivals

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