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FOOTPRINTS A man and a woman are sitting over there at a table bending over a pair of tropical drinks. Automobilesbwzz by as they are at a cafe in a square in the center of town not more than z5 yards from the spot where travelers have to decide whether to go north or south. From here it looks as if they are whispering but then the woman gets up and walks to the wall Iooking at the road as if it is the ocean as if the tar is going to roll up into surf and smash this silver car which has just turned on its headlights into the cafes yellow wall and drain back into itself until all is motion surrounding the cafe the night doing everything in its power to reinforce the sensation patrons lizard still beneath the cool umbrella tables while everything else is moving moving disappearing into the night until the man looks up and sees the woman staring at the abyss he walks up to her and puts his arm around her shoulder the drinks cool bells on the floating tablecloth the arch of her heels swashy as she pulls a leg partway up her dress while she tells him that they need to spend some time apart that her feelings for him arent what shed hoped they could be at this point and they both look over the wall and the man thinks of her feelings trying as hard as he can to imagine what she feels but all he can do is stare down at his two hands and yet he knows that he should be careful of her feelings and so he takes them to the only place he knows where theyll be safe the place where planes are taken out in the desert so they wont rust B-24 Liberators and B-r 7 Flying Fortresses parked in vanishing points at Davis-Monthan Air Force Base Arizona so arid there that generations of inventory are stored there in case nations decide they want to conduct World War II all over again and so he imagines the women hes known taxied out into position under the desert sky the secret ones covered by tarps pools of red nail polish dripping slowly into the sand caretakers strolling by to ensure the aging process is stopped properly chocks rolled under the wheels and the party dresses hanging limply iike indoor flags above the desert floor. Hes crossed the mountain now and is heading down over the purple threshold and onto the tarmac with security lax in recent decades its easy enough to slip through the turrets and M-6os to where the women are kept and when he reaches her hand she responds easily to his touch her eyes slide onto the runway as they leap into the night over the resort towns with their 25