he stared out the window at the french cityscape below
and thought to himself, "i've got to get out of here. i'm drowning and the airplanes are not safe."

he repacked his suitcase,
carefully folding his clothes for the seventh time, a CONVENIENT distraction from the motionless body lying next to him. his legs grew completely numb again and he was forced to limply swing them around with this arms. beneath the window, he could hear somebody searching the trash for cans and bottles.

"this time it's going to happen," he thought with shaking hands, "this time i'm going to get MOVING."

he glanced back out the window, its light temporarily blinding him. he did not think it looked like an ordinary window.