When a poor man turned forty-four, he decided to sell everything and go on a big adventure. All he wants is peace and a sunny place!
But, no matter how beautiful a man's plans may be, a woman will always have the power to turn them upside down.
The...
I wake up suddenly. I notice someone has put a pillow under my head.
The plane is still in place, and the engines are still off. Something's not right. I signal to the flight attendant, and she approaches.
"Excuse me, but... why aren't we leaving?"
"Oh, you woke up!" she says, smiling. "We're leaving right away, sir. In three minutes."
"St... strange," I stammer. "Very strange. It seemed to me like I slept much longer, but I see we're still here, on the ground."
"Yes, you slept. Don't deceive yourself. You slept quite a bit. You slept for about fourteen hours," she says, showing all her teeth.
My jaw divorces from my mandible. I ask with wide eyes:
"I slept fourteen hours? Me?"
"Yes, sir. We were worried. We slapped you, but nothing. We even brought a doctor who examined you. Nothing. We didn't know what else to do. The pilot seriously considered landing in New Delhi and leaving you at a hospital. In the end, the doctor convinced him not to."
"And now we're at..."
"In Shanghai, China. We stopped for refueling. We're leaving in three minutes. I'm going right now to inform the doctor that you woke up."
As she talks to me, her face moves thousands of light years away from me. China? What do you mean, China? I want Thailand, not China. I want it now!
I bury myself in my padded seat.
China? No one in my family has ever been to China. I fan myself with my hands and cool down.
The flight attendant leaves. A short, bald guy approaches me. He suddenly takes my hand and holds it like that.
"Go to hell!" I shout at him. "I'm not gay."
"Neither am I," he replies. "I was trying to take your pulse."
Aha! So this is the doctor? Well, here we go! He couldn't be bothered to put on a white coat and a stethoscope around his neck? In the end, someone's going to get it from someone.
"Will I survive, doc?" I ask, smiling.
"I think so," he replies with a serious face. "Did you take any sleeping pills?"
"A friend gave me some aspirin. And, the night before, I had some weird drink 'Made in Austria'."
"As far as I know," he says thoughtfully, "aspirin doesn't cause drowsiness. It might be from the drink."
"It might be," I agree, annoyed. "Damn Austrians! They poison people with their schnapps."
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The doctor shrugs and leaves, and I quickly unbuckle my belt because I feel like my bladder is about to burst. I go to the bathroom, quickly empty the excess water, and come back. I sit back in my seat and suddenly sniff the air. What's that smell? Something's not right!
