Five hours have been given me. Even though they were already there, it's like they didn't really exist until now. Five ours of now. Creamy, delicious hours, filled with the book I'm currently reading, free food from our carrier, changing diapers on Atlas, drinking coffee and enjoying the company of my mum.
It tastes like grilled Chevre, glazed in honey. A bit surprising, a bit sweet, a hint of sour, with the consistence of something you think you've had before.
It's a choice really, enjoying these unexpected hours. I can't do anything about the air traffic, so, instead of whining about the weather, why not have a honey glazed Chevre?
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