One Endless Day by Miranda Grigg

  This traveling stuff feels like either one endless day, or a million years. Thank goodness we’re about to board our last plane! [“Well, at least for two weeks. Hehe,” says Cat.] Caroline, Shanae and I just gave salutations to the sun that shone through Delhi smog, in a quaint little airport prayer room. It’s so cool to be accepting all these different aspects of cultures! Hindu, Muslim, Malaysian, British, et cetera—and they all have their own way to connect themselves to some greater force that holds this human mess together. What a beautiful thing, to salute the sun. (: I wish I spoke Hindu. I am almost to Banjar. My ankles are fat balloons.