It is 12:29 p.m. on a Sunday. I'm sitting in the Dallas-Fort Worth Airport waiting for my flight to start boarding in roughly 20 minutes. I've spent the past thirty minutes navigating the bustling terminal back and forth grabbing food, a drink, and passing my gate several times in search of both of those (long story), passing a flight to Monterrey, Mexico, several times in the process while the gate agent calls for the next group completely in Spanish.

A topic that often comes up in stories I haven’t finished writing is the concept of spaces between spaces. To this end, I have done substantial research in the form of watching YouTube Horror videos inspired by the concept of liminality. For those who don’t know, liminality or liminal refers to the state of “occupying both sides of a threshold” or “relating to a transitional or initial stage of a process.” If you’re familiar with The Back Rooms or a quarter of the posts found on the subreddit r/liminalspace, you sort of get what the premise is: a space that connects Places (capital p) with other Places. Airports. Hotel hallways. These sort of places. 

My memory isn’t the greatest any more. Two bouts with covid and getting older has taken a toll on what used to be a pretty infallible ability to recall facts, events, and how the weaknesses and resistances in Pokemon work. Fairy types always trip me up. Mostly I struggle with names now, so if it seems as though I am hesitating before saying your name, it’s not a reflection on our relationship or on you - it’s my brain.