Sunday

In seven hours time I will be boarding a plane.
It will take me away into the night
over countries and oceans and islands and little people going about their little daily lives.
I will sit next to someone I've never met before.
Maybe have a conversation about who they are.

But likely not, because just like in cars
I don't talk much in planes.

And then, in 22 hours, or approximately thereof,
I will land back in the place that I have missed for the past month.

I will pick up my luggage [already 5 kilos overweight]
and walk down the little hallway that always make me feel very important.
And search for two faces in the crowd.


And I will be home.
And I will begin to plan for the next time I leave.
This time, for good.

Airport people, always say goodbye.