Layover, Catelonia

The shuttle sat on Catelonia an extra night. I did not stay for Feathers of Fury. I watched the posters from the terminal — birds like fighter planes, a ring, people holding coins like they already knew the winner.

A woman selling tickets told me the only honest rule on the island: the house never takes the bird. You can lose the card and still walk out with something that flies. Keep it, raise it, enter it, sell it in the marketplace. I wrote that down because it is the first stall I have seen that does not punish you for showing up.

I put the lip on in the terminal mirror and caught the next launch. The diary does not have to be about the mission. Tonight it isn't.