Now this empty fenced-off, loud, cement-slabbed, uneven T.S. Elliot-inspiring place just sits there blinking at me directly under wing lights of outgoing traveler jets. I know. I understand. In a post-9-11 world, we have to be ...
Now this empty fenced-off, loud, cement-slabbed, uneven T.S. Elliot-inspiring place just sits there blinking at me directly under wing lights of outgoing traveler jets. I know. I understand. In a post-9-11 world, we have to be ...