The Airportline: Observations

And its a day for sitting and watching the world as the cold wind blows past the empty chairs outside the cafés that were filled yesterday. But we don't sit, cause we have things to do, meetings to attend, stairs to climb, elevators to stand quiet in. So we make our ways out on the streets, some of us with music in our ears, some of us with allergies which make our eyes tear in the wind. And we glance at each other at the stop lights, the wind whirling around our heads, we've stopped speaking, we're inside our own heads. And in mine, there is Alexi Murdoch and a song about moving a heart. It's softer than the wind, louder than the quiet elevator.