Blue Airport

(This was originally written in the departure lounge of Tullamarine Airport.)

Airports. Are. Boring.

I’ve been down to the liquor stores, and the cafés, and the speciality shops with the strange chocolates and cosmetics. There’s only so much shopping you can do before you never want to see another duty-free store again.

Also, bookstores. Normally I love bookstores – I spent an hour at one the other day – but the airport ones seem to carry books I would never want to read, for one reason or another. (Twilight graphic novel? Really?)

I’m sitting in the departure lounge right now, my aeroplane sitting in the sun a bare twenty metres away, me in air-conditioned, soft-carpeted comfort, and I am bored.

Think of how the aeroplane must feel.