Nowhere does time crystalize as it does at airport terminals. This empty space that is neither here nor there. This no man’s land that belongs to no country and to all countries serves only as a point of passage. A step in one direction or another.
Suspended in time, acutely aware of the minutes that pass us by, we wait. Mostly these vacant hours are spent trying to read, sleep or finally organize that pesky desktop folder that grows more convoluted with every new document saved, but sometimes these four walls of interminable waiting are filled by something else.