A Glitch

I arrive in Atlanta, prepared for the big journey home. My aunt looks at me sideways before saying, "Where´s your passport?" I narrow my eyes in suspicion.

Dear sweet Mercedes, who facilitated my visa hunt in Miami, forgot to Overnight Express my passport to me. I could hear her panic over the phone as she searched for my passport, momentarily missing in action. Papers shuffled. She muttered to herself. I held a cool washcloth to my forehead to keep from hyperventilating. What to do now?

She finds my passport, and also miraculously finds my visa, which came the same morning. She promises to mail it out the same afternoon. The rest of the afternoon is spent making frantic phone calls across the globe and back home. USAirways refuses at first to change my flight, but I am persistent and sometimes persistance pays in America. My flight is changed to Tuesday night. My boss is unhappy but he´s an ass anyway.

I go home to Valdosta the next morning with my passport in hand, ready to spend my few extra days with the family and enjoy an extension to what was such a rushed holiday. I am happy, yet wary, wondering what could possibly happen next.