Alptraum125

Going Home By Christian Cortes English 210, Spring 2008 I had been sitting in this awkward chair at gate E39 for seventeen hours, waiting for the dark and chaotic New York skies to clear up so planes could land and take off once more.  A massive snowstorm had rolled in sometime last night with my flight from Los Angeles, effectively grounding all flights until now.  I had wandered around here or there, browsing the duty-free stores stocked with tax-free Tag Heuer watches and overpriced bottles of Johnny Walker Blue Label, but there was only so much a British man could do in the international terminal of a snow-locked airport on the east coas