Houston is a lovely city to leave, particularly as the night falls. The city spreads far and wide and if, as on the night I left, there are clouds and fog at the horizon, it looks as though the city fades into the edge of the world. The lights are scattered between the substantial tracts and sets of trees in the city (Downtown is far behind you as you head out of GWB Houston airport) and even if you had no fun at all in the town, you feel a sense of false nostalgia.
Then you climb above the clouds, look out towards the amber and sere sunset which you plane is futilely chasing, and Houston is blessedly forgotten.
When I arrive Big City is pissing down rain and I have a lot to do in the days I have left here….Overcoming the big beer spill of ought-eight, for one thing. An entire beer.. dead center on my bed. siiiiiiiiigh
1 comment:
And Houston is left to the langoliers...
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