GROVEL IN THE DIRT

In a hazy, light headed mental state, and it's not from the vodka I was sipping on the plane. Waiting for the trains to start at 5.07. The place is littered with half asleep bodies. Mostly young, but a sprinkling of greyhairs. On mats and sleeping bags, with their bags as makeshift pillows, or trying to make the best of the uniformly uncomfortable blue plastic bench chairs. Yes they'll give you cheap flights, but they'll make you grovel in the dirt for it.