Waiting to Board

Time spent in airports is a form of purgatory.

A purification ritual; waiting for Godot; lost time is not found again.

I have undergone this routine seven times before going to Iceland.

Today was to have been the eighth—on the way to a writers retreat—a new chapter in my Icelandic Saga.

Tomorrow FITK will “land” in Iceland, a chronicle of an imaginary trip instead of the real one which would be happening now if there had been no Covid-19 pandemic.

To be continued…