Let there be light

Just a little bit more... 

Fancy that? Sun rays! Has we walked back from the Mistake Factory, after a long day's work. 
Sunlight?! I'd better keep this quiet. My boss could be led to believe that I didn't put in enough unpaid overtime today. 
Which wouldn't delight the shareholders. 

Sunshine, hey? 
We grabbed those last few beams of light. 
Before we plunge into the Long Dark Night. 

With the very very short days. And a bit of pale grayness suffocating between the slabs of damp darkness. And us acting the raisins in the porridge. 

Except that Carlos is off to Brazil soon. For two weeks. And he won't put in any unpaid work-related activities while he is over there. Naughty. We can't let the shareholders know... 

He was talking about the exit row seats that he bought when I sneakily took this shot. Well, he didn't buy the seats per se. They'd look weird in the one bedroom apartment that he hasn't bought yet. He bought their use for 8 hours each way. Paris to Rio. Wasn't it an Air France A330 that vanished between Rio and Paris? No, I think it was between Sao Paulo and Paris. Poor people. And pilots, who no longer with an instinctive sense of flight. Just an instinctive sense of monitoring computer screens. "You're going down, pull up, pull up!" When all the time they were going up up up, losing speed, and stalling the plane. Because the computer said they were going down... Poor people. I'd better remember to tell Carlos at work tomorrow. 
And he pops in a sleeping pill, in his exit row seat, or so he told me, as I was taking this shot. 
But surely it's not allowed says I, clicking away, trying to deal with the tricky light. You have to be able bodied and willing to help. And you are sixty, and selfish, and drugged on sleeping tablets, to conquer your fear of flying.

I really must remember to tell him the story of Air France flight 447.