It would be a beautiful afternoon, cloudless, bright and blue. I’d check into our hotel room around the time your plane arrived, knowing you’d have security to go through and the short cab ride before you’d swipe your card in the door and it would close behind and suddenly we’d be breathing the same air in the same room. I imagine the moment would be imperfect, your text from the lobby would be delayed or I’d have had a moment of anxiety, standing and sitting and pacing and sitting again, “acting casual” but rushing to the door at the last moment, both of us freezing in action as our eyes…