Puffy and heavy-lidded. I am a time traveler.

It's not as glamorous as it sounds.

Chugging across time zones. Bobbing on the cusp of sleep, only to be reeled back by baby crying, man kicking seat, angry flight attendant leaning over, turbulence.

Time travel leaves me groggy. Makes me want chocolate. A hug. A cradle that rocks.

Maybe I was the crying baby on the plane?

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