In Transit

Sitting in Dubia Airport. It’s 2pm in the morning bustling with people cashing in on the duty free. I paused for a while at the after 8, and remembered why. A lady left her baby with me at the toilet, we didn’t even speak the same language so the baby and stood staring at each other while her mom weed. It’s a strange place airports at night, when one should be sleeping. I’ve got the blood shot eyes after a movie marathon, pacing up and down to stay awake and kill time, watching over the bodies scattered all around me. My body is tired feel like I have been in transit for a week living out of bags. I arrive in Scotland tomorrow, oh I mean to day.