He walked down the street and took a bus to the airport. No box of lights. The sun through the slatted fence blinked at him like a strobe. It made him sick to the pit of his stomach. The road once he got on it was uneventful. There was nothing to save him painted on the bricks sliding past. He got there and did not think to check in. He held no passport anyway. He went straight to the cafeteria. Watched the planes roll in only to take off again two or three cups of coffee later. No broken wings or supports in splints. It cost him twenty pence just to urinate against a wall. He got the bus home and disembarked with a sixty a day habit.