My airport

Tuesday night, I booked a flight to go to Rome from Brussels airport.

Yesterday morning, I woke up. My radio went on… Attacks… Bombs… Zaventem. No, not the airport. I bursted into tears. The airport is the symbol of my inability to stay still but moreover my relentless desire to explore the world, to visit new countries, to discover other cultures and ways of living. I will of course continue, nothing, no one will stop me. But my heart aches for those who will not be able to travel anymore. My heart aches. No, not the airport, not the airport.

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