I wake. The sun is so bright I slam my eyelids shut. At first I don’t remember where I am. The rumble of the plane refreshes my memory. I am on my way to Auntie Ji An. I stretch. My right hand brushes the shoulder of Ponytail Man. I didn’t mean to touch him. His eyes swivel toward me. I feel my face go red. I have morning breath and gosh it tastes bad. I cover my mouth and say, “Sorry.”

A slow smile spreads across his face and rests in his dark eyes. He says,“No problem.” His gaze returns to his iPad. Korean characters fill the screen. I can speak Korean, thanks to my parents, but I can barely read it.

I turn away from Ponytail Man and grab my purse. Of course my breath mints have sunk to the bottom. As I pull them out, I notice Emily’s card pressed against the side. Why haven’t I taken it out of my purse? I don’t know. I pop a breath mint. The sharp spearmint brings me fully awake. I retrieve Emily’s card and study her drawing. Her pencil strokes are delicate. The shading captures light on water. The gulls are a tiny bit wonky. Still, I find them beautiful.

Beside me, Ponytail Man asks, “Is that original artwork?”

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I smile and nod.

“Its good.”

For a brief moment we make eye contact. There is kindness in his eyes and curiosity, maybe.

“Thanks, the artist is one of my best students.”

“So you teach art?”

I wasn’t expecting to have a conversation with Ponytail Man. “Yes.”

“That’s great.” He smiles again and turns back to his iPad.

So, the conversation is over. I let it be. My mother has drilled into me not to talk to strangers. There is also the fact that I am a woman traveling alone. I turn and I look out the window. Morning light spills over Seoul. I am aware that the plane has begun its descent. My eyes tear up. It has been so long since I have stood on Korean soil…the land of my family. For the first time since Jason walked out of my apartment, he steps into the back ground of my thoughts. Memories happy and sad fill my mind.

Over the intercom a female voice says, “Prepare for landing.” She says a lot of other stuff, but I don’t listen. I put on my seatbelt and start blindly shoving my snacks, books and pencils into my back pack.

The plane lands. I get up to fetch my carry on. The thing is jammed. I tug on it. Behind me Ponytail Man asks, “Need some help?”

“Please.” I slip into his seat, as he wrestles my duffle bag free. He hands it to me. Again our eyes meet. I see myself reflected in them. I hear myself say, “Thank you.”

“No problem.” He steps into the aisle and heads for the exit.