Flightside

First time I met Angel
Up on the bridge of an ocean-going liner
She was virtue, vice and
Can't give her up now for all the tea in China
Here comes a knock on my door
Angel face with teeth like a tiger's claw
Morning comes she'll soon be back begging for more
Angel knows that truth has a sliding floor

Another good morning session, in a new room. This one has a huge display and a huge, wall-mounted whiteboard. Problem is they are opposite each other, so people have keep swivelling their chair or craning their necks. No matter.

I head to the airport mid-afternoon, for food and drink. When I go for my flight, I discover it has been delayed, so they have re-routed me through Atlanta and Amsterdam. If everything goes according to plan, I'll arrive five hours late in Edinburgh.

Ive got three hours to kill in Atlanta. I prowl the subterranean walkways between concourses until I wash up in a bar, drinking Sierra Pale Ale and making some edits to the book. I'll sleep on the plane - not well, but adequately.