my impossible complexities

I hate airports. It’s almost always a goodbye affair and rarely ever a happy hello. I’ve watched many friends depart from airports and never return. And now . Though, as much as I hate leaving cherished friends behind at the departure terminals, I can’t help dreaming of the day when I’ll be the one going on a jetplane adventure, off into the sky and away. I looked up at the bulletin board today, like I always do at airports, fascinated by such distant places ticket-holders would be flying to that very afternoon- Kuala Lumpar, Berlin and San Francisco…

I wish my family was as interesting as ana’s. She and her mum live in Soho, in a refurbished flour storehouse above a Greek bakery. I think her mum’s interesting, but I haven’t said that to ana-Jane. I’m sure I would get annoyed if my own mother tried to force-feed me soya and cursed every McDonald’s, declaring the Rise of the Golden Arches. But still. She tie-dyes clothing and hangs it out on balcony, studies Native American culture and organizes demonstrations against ‘billboard pollution’ and forestry. You can sometimes hear her practicing on her guitar and singing Creedence Clearwater Revival on warm evenings, but ana-Jane stopped having slumber parties some time ago. The Volkswagen beetle that was once a regular old rust on wheels has become a statement of colorful whirly flowers. But since the recent rise in the petrol price her mum has decided that using the car from short trips was unnecessary, as well contributive to carbon emissions in the atmosphere. ana-Jane walks to school with me now.