Eighteen Days

Driving back to Billy’s house at nine o’clock at night.

Billy. It comes and goes in waves. Getting the vaccines, that was a wave. But now, I’m not really thinking about it all. Buying travel insurance, getting the visa for India sorted out, getting more shirts, all that stuff will be waves, and I’ll realize that it is actually happening.

Elliott. We’ve been planning and talking about it for so long that it has entered the realm of abstraction. It feels like someone else will being leaving on August 19th, not me. By the way, where will you be the night before we leave? Home or in Old Saybrook?

Billy. Probably Old Saybrook. I figured we can just meet there that morning.

Elliott. Sounds good. I also get the feeling that the whole realization of this is going to hit me that morning like a frying pan to the face.

Billy. Oh for sure. It will definitely be like, “Ah, why didn’t I plan for this more?” But really there’s no way to plan for this kind of thing.

Elliott. We shouldn’t dwell on it then.

Billy. Yep. Oh, this is “Starman” by Bowie, turn it up!

Eighteen days left.


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