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.


5 thoughts on “My airport

  1. Oh.My.God.

    Emilie, I have never been so happy to see an email in my inbox. I am so incredibly sad and alarmed that happened. But grateful to hear that you are ok.



Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.