I'm at the airport. Everybody is moving. Talking. Walking. And many other verbs. But mostly passive ones.
It's easy to tell whether people are coming or going. Whether they're starting out or ending up. If this is a voluntary movement or an obligation. Some try to sleep. Rub their temples. Socialize. Quietly die.
Airports are surprisingly calm when you think about it. Here cultures collide in a confusing ever-changing mess of departures and arrivals. And there is the element of fear. But everybody follows the rules. And keeps to themselves mostly. Driving isn't even this organized; relative to the amount of danger involved.
But I guess I shouldn't let it bother me. I'm just going to keep sitting and being a people watcher lurk against the wall. My layover flight to NY was flaked so I have another 2 hours to scope this place out for prisses and munks.
How exciting.
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