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The Airport is an interesting place, full of characters.
Some boring like the stuffed shirt next to me, probably travelling the country selling unnecessary wares visiting his mistress and eating French Food somewhere
Some unique like the old man at gate twenty-two half asleep wearing a lei on his neck white mustache hawaiian shirt iced vodka tonic in his hand
Some beautiful like the college girl standing in line faded blond hair wearing thrift store corduroys
Waiting here makes you think mostly about time Bob Dylan in my ear crying grey skies above
It's a good place to watch tomorrow happen. Scads of people rolling along floating across ugly carpeted floors headed to destinations unknown often alone
Here where no one is considered about today
3:58 PM
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