Mariana Dietl is an Argentine-American writer with a major in International Relations from St. Andrew’s University in Argentina. She worked for Clarín, the leading newspaper in that country, and for the Argentine Consulate in Los Angeles, as Chief Communications Officer. She studied creative writing at UCLA Extension and at Beyond Baroque Literary Arts Center. Her novel, Confined (First Edition: The Litchfield Review Press, 2009; Second Edition: ahadada books, 2013), was awarded The Litchfield Review’s Fiction Prize. Argentina: Se Me Hace Cuento, her first story collection, received third prize in UC Irvine’s Chicano/Latino Literary Award and was published by ahadada Books (Argentinos: Stories, ahadada Books, 2010), and other stories were finalists in contests from the U.S and abroad. Her second collection, Era: y otros cuentos, was published by Ediciones del Dragón (Argentina) in 2011. Her work can be found in hotmetalpress.net, Literary Chaos, Tertulia, Luces & Sombras, The Externalist, SNReview, Río Grande Review, Revista Baquiana, Rattle, The Litchfield Review, Tonopah Preview and in Palabra. She is a member of PEN Center USA.

Airport

I arrive at Kennedy Airport, untidy and disheveled as always, with my burgundy pouch strapped to my back and my flowered carry-on. No baggage to claim.

He is waiting for me at the gate. I feel him in my bones as I go past greetings to pilot, copilot and crew. My sweaty hands and trembling legs obey the automatic functions of balancing weight on either shoulder, avoiding collisions with anonymous faces and walking briskly so as to emerge from the claustrophobic tunnel as soon as possible. Then I see a light at the end and all of a sudden I am faced with the recurrent scenery of pale colored walls, grey cushioned chairs and easy-listening rhythms.

But this time is different. Although the artificial landscape, turbines smell and loudspeaker multilingual voice is the same, his weathered face is a new addition to the view. Neither the overweight peach toned expectant woman nor the self-confident gold-clad Puerto Rican macho can realize how awaited and dangerous is our welcoming kiss and firm embrace. How old he looks. How tired. I must look the same.

The next moment we are opening the door of a creamy hotel room – the taxi trip not worth recalling. We were probably too busy with our own thoughts, weighing the pros and cons of our daring decision, hoping it will be worthwhile.

I sit in the bed and look out of the window. Snow cops fall over the varied foliage of Central Park . I’d never seen the snow with him, I think. And all the while he gazes at me from the door frame, smiling.

I turn as his stare starts to burn my woolen coat. Our eyes meet and say to each other: “We’ve made it, after all.”
He walks towards me.
Never mind what comes later.
Never mind the cost.
Never mind the regrets.
Let’s just make the most out of this wild adventure.

Published by The Tonopah Review, 2009

© 2014 Mariana Dietl