Crumbs From the Corner: Adventures in Woolgathering

Thursday, April 30, 2009


We were trying to reach India via Heathrow: we were guided onto a curious, prolonged series of shuttle buses that hurtled us from one corner of Terminal 5 to another for no time-saving purpose that we could identify.
During the third shuttle excursion, when my fury increased and I began to think we ought to be arriving in India shortly instead of careening around the airport towards yet another bus, I observed a small sign above the window.
The letter D was appropriately faint, perhaps rubbed by a frustrated hand to suggest we were not the first victims to pass that way.
D'Anger, certainly.


ArtSparker said...

The musketeer that dares not speak his name.

Phyllis Hunt McGowan said...

ArtSparker, a great comment. We'll have to come up with a name for him! The Lone Writer, perhaps.

julochka said...

i think heathrow promotes a special kind of d'anger that's perhaps akin to's how they designed it. to suck all of the happiness out of the universe.

Phyllis Hunt McGowan said...

Julie, you can say that again. What a place of horrors. I avoid that airport if I can. But it isn't always possible, sadly.

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