fdelano Posted July 22, 2011 Share Posted July 22, 2011 There is a place in my backyard, with open sky between encircling trees, where the stream of passenger jets passes, noses pointed at D. C., a hundred miles out, right over my house. Each throttles back exactly there to start descent for landing. In permissible weather, they trail constantly, every few minutes, each shuffling hundreds of souls from who knows where to our capitol city. Tens of thousands travel daily to stay in other places, while I remain, watching the flow, wondering why, happy to remain where I feel safe and welcome. Don’t touch my junk.* *Credit to the brave man who defied the stupidity of invasion of privacy. Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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