Mick pulls up in front of Palisha’s apartment building at 6:13 a.m. and parks. He’s booked them a flight to Lukla at nine this morning, and he’s running a bit late. He hopes Palisha is all set to go. The domestic airport isn’t known for expediency of meeting flight schedules. He gets out of his rental car and is about to head for the front door when it opens and she comes out, dragging a small carry-on piece of luggage. He should’ve mentioned she’d need a daypack, but they can purchase one in the village and transfer everything they need for their hikes.
What holds his attention most, though, is the pastel-blue tapālan and embroidered blue jeans she’s wearing. The embroidered lapels of her top are parted, revealing a hint of cleavage, and it fits her like glove, bringing out the color of
