She didn’t really know where she was going, or what she was going to do when she got there. She only knew the why. She looked outside, through the vast wall of glass, and watched the planes roll in, and then out. Collecting and uncollecting. Giant, monstrous, steel birds. For almost ten years now, giant, murderous steel bombs. No one had forgotten that day, and it seemed unlikely they ever would. Yet they were here. The elderly couple flocking south for the winter. The man in the wrinkled navy suit, scrolling through emails on his Blackberry. The mother and her young son, around eight, passing the time by playing Go Fish on the plastic chair between them. They were all here, and they all had a purpose. They were all in the terminal for a reason. She was in the terminal because she had been told to be. There was no other purpose to her being there. No destiny to be fulfilled, no telos in her departure, or her arrival. She was just there, lost in a vast universe of direction.