Limbo
There's a prayer room at the far end of neon lights and polypropylene tiles, but I've opted to plug into the outisde world in lieu of spiritual salvation.
In another life, I'm sitting on a Virgin Air flight, on my way to San Francisco. Instead, here I am stuck in between Heathrow's check-in and departures; the anomoly amid the hustle and bustle of the world's busiest airport.
My one source of solace is that I'm connected to free wireless and currently plugged into the only electrical outlet I could find in this "space between." It beats paying a quid for 20 minutes in the internet cafes that lure lost souls with their promise of instant access to the world and offer the eye a break from the monotonous store fronts that dot the gray corridor.
I can't help but laugh. This is literally the first time I've been able to sit down and collect myself since leaving Syracuse for India 5 months ago. I suppose that's what limbo is for...
I think it's about time I went to the prayer room.
*****
So I ventured out of Limbo and into Terminal 3 Arrivals... I was headed to the prayer room- never too late to be saved- but on my way there was a sign beckoning me to follow the arrow down to Arrivals. So I did.
*****
I’ve made it to half seven (UK speak for 7:30… crazy I know, but true) I’ve found a ‘nice’ little spot in Limbo away from the foot traffic- prime real estate overlooking the construction outside. Directly across from me, on the other side of the rubble, is Terminal 3 Arrivals- my first and last memories of England will be Terminal 3. How quaint.
It’s a dreary day outside, raining. Not missing much I suppose…
In another life, I'm sitting on a Virgin Air flight, on my way to San Francisco. Instead, here I am stuck in between Heathrow's check-in and departures; the anomoly amid the hustle and bustle of the world's busiest airport.
My one source of solace is that I'm connected to free wireless and currently plugged into the only electrical outlet I could find in this "space between." It beats paying a quid for 20 minutes in the internet cafes that lure lost souls with their promise of instant access to the world and offer the eye a break from the monotonous store fronts that dot the gray corridor.
I can't help but laugh. This is literally the first time I've been able to sit down and collect myself since leaving Syracuse for India 5 months ago. I suppose that's what limbo is for...
I think it's about time I went to the prayer room.
*****
So I ventured out of Limbo and into Terminal 3 Arrivals... I was headed to the prayer room- never too late to be saved- but on my way there was a sign beckoning me to follow the arrow down to Arrivals. So I did.
*****
I’ve made it to half seven (UK speak for 7:30… crazy I know, but true) I’ve found a ‘nice’ little spot in Limbo away from the foot traffic- prime real estate overlooking the construction outside. Directly across from me, on the other side of the rubble, is Terminal 3 Arrivals- my first and last memories of England will be Terminal 3. How quaint.
It’s a dreary day outside, raining. Not missing much I suppose…