November 6th, 2003


Korantothehills and VB

There are three small empty bottles of gin lined up on my tray beside the computer. There is a lime rind in the now empty glass and a very pretty stewardess with auburn hair and an exquisitely tailored blouse keeps leaning over to refresh my drink. I've come to accept that British Airways is the only route back to a civilized life. Being jailed twice in one week in countries were human rights boils down to 'would you like the bullet in the left or right ear' is really not my thing. Not my gig, as it were. Plus, Indian jails reek beyond belief.

Still, no one has shot at me in at least forty-eight hours. I think that's a plus.

Nobody knows the trouble I've seen.Collapse )