Keflavik. 27th July. 5.35 am
“The plane will crash. We are all condemned.”
WHERE WE BELONG
This morning, Cornelia brutally woke up, her body covered with sweat and undone cloths. The nightmare of the night she has just passed, was still quite present in her memory and she felt her heart drum out with violence under her tee-shirt. There was nothing to worry about, but this stupid nightmare seemed to her so real. She was supposed to take the plane in a few hours indeed, and already, she had the impression to make a mistake. She turned to the alarm clock on the bedside table of her hotel room and thought the long waterfall of hair ones which fell in front of her eyes, she watched the alarm clock. 5.40 am. The cafeteria opened at 6.30 and she still had time in front of she. She undertook to prepare her bag. Her last weeks in Iceland had quickly passed and she realized that was with regret she left this country and his way of life, which she got used to. As of she had succeed in with doing everything to return in her bag, she took her jeans and her jacket had put on her chair and she get dressed. She copped, make-up. She look her hand bag and checked always had her ticket and her papers, when suddenly, she noticed something. Her watch, which as lately as yesterday was there, in the front pocket, had now, disappeared. One had not stolen the door to her room was made safe, and, in any event, a thief would have took papers and wallet. She had had to pose it then to forget. She was therefore put to seek it put it wasn't anywhere. The young women sighed, it was merely volatilized. A little later as soon as the self-service opened, she went down to have a breakfast. The room was deserted and the first customers came up a little later but Cornelia was already gone. She came down the stair trailing behind she her bag and arrived at the reception, she returned the keys, the room being paid in advance. Outside, the sky was grey and seemed uncertain to want to make fall or not a rain which had been already awaited for several days. She hailed one of the taxis which awaited the customers in front of the back bench she pointed to the driver, which after having installed her bag in the trunk was given to the wheel: “Reykjavik's airport, gate B”.
“The plane will crash. We are all condemned.”
WHERE WE BELONG
This morning, Cornelia brutally woke up, her body covered with sweat and undone cloths. The nightmare of the night she has just passed, was still quite present in her memory and she felt her heart drum out with violence under her tee-shirt. There was nothing to worry about, but this stupid nightmare seemed to her so real. She was supposed to take the plane in a few hours indeed, and already, she had the impression to make a mistake. She turned to the alarm clock on the bedside table of her hotel room and thought the long waterfall of hair ones which fell in front of her eyes, she watched the alarm clock. 5.40 am. The cafeteria opened at 6.30 and she still had time in front of she. She undertook to prepare her bag. Her last weeks in Iceland had quickly passed and she realized that was with regret she left this country and his way of life, which she got used to. As of she had succeed in with doing everything to return in her bag, she took her jeans and her jacket had put on her chair and she get dressed. She copped, make-up. She look her hand bag and checked always had her ticket and her papers, when suddenly, she noticed something. Her watch, which as lately as yesterday was there, in the front pocket, had now, disappeared. One had not stolen the door to her room was made safe, and, in any event, a thief would have took papers and wallet. She had had to pose it then to forget. She was therefore put to seek it put it wasn't anywhere. The young women sighed, it was merely volatilized. A little later as soon as the self-service opened, she went down to have a breakfast. The room was deserted and the first customers came up a little later but Cornelia was already gone. She came down the stair trailing behind she her bag and arrived at the reception, she returned the keys, the room being paid in advance. Outside, the sky was grey and seemed uncertain to want to make fall or not a rain which had been already awaited for several days. She hailed one of the taxis which awaited the customers in front of the back bench she pointed to the driver, which after having installed her bag in the trunk was given to the wheel: “Reykjavik's airport, gate B”.
