Until today I was so wrapped up in my story that I never realized that there was more than yesterday’s flash fiction kernel that started it, or maybe not started it but at least unconsciously spurred me on to write it. I should’ve known when I started my journey at Schiphol Airport and took out my passport, because I carry my passport with me in a Penguin card holder that depicts the cover of D.H. Lawrence’s The Lost Girl. I should’ve known when I pulled out my travel pouch and notebook to scribble down my thoughts during the 11-hour flight to San Francisco, because I carry my pens, sharpies, pencils, my good luck trinkets with me in a Penguin travel pouch that is printed with the cover of Jack Kerouac’s On…