/ by Edward Mullany

Earlier, in Denver, after my plane had landed and I’d disembarked and had made my way through the concourse to where the shuttles wait, outside the terminal, I’d rented a car from a location near the airport, and had driven the ninety miles or so, up through the northern part of Colorado, along the interstate, to Wyoming; so that this morning, not long after I’d woken, I’d returned that same car to a branch office here in Cheyenne, about a mile from where A. and I live, and had walked home along a quiet winding street out near the highway.