Killing time at Incheon International Airport, parked on a stiff wooden bench. I sit back and watch travellers criss cross in front of me, looking important, looking flustered, looking excited. Where is everyone going?
Behind me the clouds are clearing and the sun begins to peak through, my nerves instantly relax. I wonder if I can rationalize another Longchamp. Is three too many?
I let out a little laugh at my own expense, after all my careful planning, I managed to set my alarm for 4:00pm instead of 4:00am - thank goodness for Dad's and international wake up calls.
What was only hours ago seems like days. My eyes begin to sting as I recall my final moments with Busan. Seat 21D, starring out the window at this little man waving feverishly as the plane jerks towards the runway. We lock eyes (or at least I like to think so) and I wave back. He throws up a peace sign and we are off.