Of Journeys and Departures
On many occasions, the very ordinary practical details of life have taken it upon themselves to elude me, none more so than when I am stressed. At such times, I become extraordinarily liable to vacantly gazing into space, which propensity is greatly encouraged by the fact that, since our marriage, Fem handles it all. Why fight what is superior in the management of the day-to-day? Large-scale, national logistical research operations I have no problem with, it's the tiny decisions related to packing a suitcase that can really stress me out. So there I was, packed up and bundled off towards the general area of Africa, more specifically in the direction of a plane to get me there, shell-shocked by the rapidity of dad's decline. Having put the fire of Allah under the Saudi's bums after Sylvia's phone call, Fem had managed, literally, to get me onto the next plane out. He gave me one last hug in my wrinkled abayah, sent me through the initial gate, and depa