Daily Noise

It's a cool night in Houston, and we are driving toward home. When we stop on Westheimer at a light, Minal glances out. It's dusk, and her gaze falls on the body of a young man lying down under a tree. He is surrounded by bags. Maybe he needs a ride to the airport, Ammi, Minal says. Why do you think he needs a ride to the airport? I ask. Because he needs to take an airplane home, she says. Airplane? I ask. Yes, because he doesn't have a home here. If he takes a plane, he can fly to his house.