I've had to pick up the plane. Arriving in the first hour of the morning, I found myself in the airport cafeteria with the clear world, occupied by a single table of four, the portilles of the PC emptying the batteries without greeting anyone, as if we had lost sight. It's not the time to put your cell phone to dance, out it's dark. Call to pick up the Enbarke card, pick up the tables, hang the samsonites by the hand on the right in the zut DNI line on the left. In the guardamonte, as if we were stripping of metal objects and others, we would swallow shame and hide something below the bow. Piii, unwind your shoes. I'm on my way to find the excuses of a chair so I don't get stuck with Lumbagia. “Eeee...” green. I untied the knot on my knees and the shoes on the metal box, as ordered by the armed man. She studies me with digital artifacts to kill flies. He believed me to trust. The ID to fly to the runway plane. I'm from the ID. I showed you that I'm not a criminal. I can leave. Nobody has spoken, the safety of airspace is what it needs, the right thing is to work together. The price of the trip equals everything, we will have to cover what we have paid, match the price of the trip, supply us with bread today. I'm also stripped of cholera value.