#WTACalls, #PreCrisis
On Wednesday morning, following an email from James, I waited outside the office for the limousine that had been ordered to take me to the US Open in New York. When it pulled up, instead of a stretched-out black car, it was a white minibus, with ‘New Haven Limos’ written in fancy script on the side. I clambered up the three stairs and nearly tripped in my high black pumps. The rest of the passengers, in their shorts and t-shirts, stared. I stared back, smoothed out my black and white linen sundress and placed the wide-brimmed black sunhat in my lap.
The airconditioning vent above me was broken; half the passengers, including me, sweltered. The other half shivered. After being jostled for well over an hour, a look out the ‘limo’ window revealed New York City. We were
