Well here I am, three airports and I’m out west. I love airports.  I love to see various people from various places with different stories.  People coming home; people leaving; people reuniting; people breaking apart.  Everyone’s story is different and you can find it all in an airport.  The tall man whose legs barely fit in the row, the woman with the fur coat and flip flips and the teenage mother with the infant, they all have their own tales, their lives converging here.  Most will pass unnoticed, unrecognized in the hustle and bustle of travel.  Everyone will board their plane, jump in a cab or eagerly await that person meeting them.  The destinations are all different, reasons for travel unknown, but we all pass through the same gate where we share that common bond of having to remove our shoes.  Why do people go sock-less to the airport?

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