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December 28, 2001 seat 9B I could see the freezing, wind-swept tarmac from seat 9B and, as we waited for take-off clearance, I stared out the window into the grayness aware of my own skeleton.  My children seated across the aisle looked like strangers and I wondered if they could hear my soul rattling in its cage.  We all knew I was a stripped-down version of something I never was.

©  2001 by the beastmaster