The sun is pouring through the window. It is burning my eyes, forcing me to squint as I try to document my initial feelings about my move.
I am in Los Angeles. Actually, I am in a suburb of Los Angeles. After a gruelling drive (impossible without the profuse help of very good friends), southern California welcomed me back into her fold with Monday rush hour traffic: a sea of immobile automobiles and the sound of honking horns. It was nearly sixty degrees, a few minutes shy of eight o'clock in the morn.
Jason asked,"Are you starting to remember this?"
"Oh, yeah," I muttered. "It is all coming back."
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