Nightglow Window

Aftermath

So, I made it. Lots of talking, big dinners, later nights, hours on the computer, writing for the show daily, listening to that annoying beep of the walkie talkie I hear now even in my sleep -- that's all over now. Crazy how hard you can push yourself. Crazy how many "second winds" you can find when you need to. But then the announcement came that the show was over and the burden was lifted.

I make my first of many goodbyes in the show office and then step outside into a tropical monsoon. Thunder booms. The rain pelts down, driven in sheets until it seems alive. Everyone around me scurries to cars or hustles madly. I'm too tired for that. Loaded down with heavy backpack, computer, tripod, and the special footsore weight only days at a trade show can give you, I walk back across the street to the hotel, face upturned into the rain. I kersplash through deep puddles. I no longer care. I'm soaked by the time I arrive, but it's a bit cathartic. The stress and load of the last five days has been washed away by the rain.