The churning sensation of sitting in a Greek diner in Altoona, Pennsylvania–a world away from Athens–in a countryside dotted with farms. 

With the echoes of Christian radioringing down the two lane highway.Hectares of bare trees floating atop the landscapeundulating like a child’s bedspread.

On the wall above my table hangsa decorative plate, with scenes from Homer,Odysseus tied to the mast, he alone immune to the siren’s song.

Outside the window of the dinersits a low white building, silently proclaiming“URGENT CARE”, and the promise of the latest iterationfrom Morpheus’ winged ear.