shannon international airport is hard to get to.

i'll rise at the sign of dawn and drag my lead legs from a tingley sleep under a damp duvet.

we'll grunt at each other and kiss despite the morning breath of beasts eating tuna and barbecue sauce.

we'll shower and dress, cold for the lack of sleep, cold for the lack of caffeine, cold for the morning, cold for the dark, cold for the cold and shivering.

lock the door. did you lock the door? here, watch. because he knows that i'll insist on coming back up the hill and the stairs if i don't remember seeing him lock it. we'll lock the door and nearly tumble down the cement steps into the car park.

we'll roll it all down the hill.

we'll stand at the curb and a bus will come and take us to wings and air and intercom systems, impossible to understand.

we'll be in a void, an empty space of time for what you'll know as six hours, but we'll just float there gaining time as we're lapsing it.

and then... home.

i love to travel.