Philadelphia airport. Summer wind, I go to the sea, you are doing? I can not wait, maybe I get lost. The scene of old trudging barefoot between gates is paramount. I am happy as a child while in step socks on the carpet, then gum on the carpets, then the harder. The real children chase each other between the legs of the big tail, laughing at the fight against terrorism. The shoes appear at intervals on the tape: I'm pretty proud of my not have holes, are not embarrassing or even bombs. Mordo Nahum (you spell it?) it would have been proud in the streets of Krakow. But older people trudging a bit ', a smoker is ashamed and basket covers the moccasins with three cartons of cigarettes. In fact, the moccasins were processed. Another takes an hour to fold and remove them, may fall and leans against the policeman. Others simply stumble. All right, I will try to retrieve the baggage that I was removed from the re-check (a kind of statistical control, it is not always attackers disguised as police officers), with the result that I saw him disappear into a tunnel with no silver output. Ensure that did not go to waste paper and regain my arrival. Maybe, but nobody asked me where I go. In flight, a small episode. The man is in his fifties, hair care apricot shirt and thick neck. It's huge. The plane has just taken off when he begins to paw, grasping the arms, asks for a glass of water. Currently unable to restrain himself, but after a couple of hours is unleashed. He must have woke up from a nightmare, gets up and takes a shot against the headboard shelf (behind the laugh). Call the ticket agent asks of Liquors, speaks softly. The refusal, began to insult him, then apologizes, then again railed against the inhumanity of the staff. The steward sent him frankly in that country, the woman intervenes and tries to calm him down. He leans toward her, stammering something Illinois that my neighbor can understand. September Eleven Was a hard day for everyone whispers in my ear Here, the shock from September 11. Fantastic. Fortunately, the arrival has only a bruise. The bombs were in London ...
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