Munich - How's this for a coincidence?

Just got home from Giant, where I ate in the Starbucks cafe.

Had two greasy dumplings from Helen. She wouldn't sell me other dumplings since they weren't fresh.

Ate those plus fruit, marinated mushrooms, and infrequent radishes, casually chopped.

The checkout lines were terribly long.

A woman behind me, 83, had an accent.

"Are you from Germany?" I asked.

How did you know? she said. I thought I lost my accent.

We both have watched Rick Steves, who recently traveled to Munich.

Told her I write short stories and the next one is about traveling to Munich.

Such a beautiful city, she said, and then the checkout woman, Delia, chimed in.

Her father was born in Mannheim, I believe she said.

Before I left home, I jotted down on a purple pad Linda B had given me, A woman is a caretaker for her elderly mother and must get away.

To Munich!

ABOARD THE PLANE TO MUNICH

Still feeling unsettled, shocked and saddened,
it was only last week Kobe Bryant and daughter Gianni
met their deaths in the air.

I put these thoughts behind me
having flown to Alaska
in a tiny bumpy plane
to Paris and London
in a plane that could pass
for the Ritz Carlton with
tiny champagne glasses
to clink with an imaginary
companion, maybe Judy Diaz
raised from the dead.