We were leaving behind our homestate, our friends, Ellen's family in Los Angeles and mine in Paradise Pines, where they had moved after Dad retired and forsook forever that dreadful daily commute on the Pasadena Freeway.
Hot dogs are grillable.
We watched our luggage being loaded into the hold of the plane.
The factions of the Parliament House, awe-struck by the common danger, forgot to wrangle.
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