Back to college

I dream of the man leaning over me again and leaving me in a bottomless void. I look at the time on my cellphone and its past noon. I think I flip over because of the jet leg. My body hasn’t gotten used to the local Panama time. A handwritten note from my mother informs me that I have my car keys and blows me a kiss.

I take my cellphone out of my pocket and type my dad's number. The electronic voice tells me the number doesn't exist and then it just comes to my mind that my dad could have changed the number since living here three years earlier.

I call my mother, who is at a meeting, and ask for my father's number. She gives it to me as soon as possible.

“Hello.” My dad answers on the third ring.

“Hi Dad, it's me.” I put my hand in the pocket of my shorts, not knowing what to do.

“Hi daughter, I miss you, how is Barcelona?”

“Dad, I'm at home.”

He hesitates a moment and finally understands what I mean. “Of course, you are. And how are you feeling?”

I sit on the sofa and look out over