By Ryan Quinn Flanagan
The busiest airport on the continent – air traffic control has never heard of John Denver, I can hardly blame them, the job takes extreme focus; did he lose his luggage? some caffeine-wired Pixie cut tries to be helpful. He lost a lot more than that, I say. YOU AGAIN? the shift supervisor walks in with his three cream, four sugar Tasmanian Devil mug and I tell him he would make a great sumo wrestler with such a low center of gravity, but the Flat Earthers aren’t having it so the muscle is called in, in a sudden fit of protein to push me down those metal exterior stairs that lead back to baggage claim and all those husky four-legged drug sniffers that work their way up your leg while the 10:45 out of Dulles disembarks.
Ryan Quinn Flanagan is a Canadian-born author residing in Elliot Lake, Ontario, Canada with his wife and many bears that rifle through his garbage. His work can be found both in print and online in such places as: Evergreen Review, The New York Quarterly, Borderless Journal, GloMag, Red Fez, and Lothlorien Poetry Journal.
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