The sun outside the dark-paned windows made way for the moon. Eventually, it would unveil itself to another Eastern horizon. The barman polished glass wear methodically and looked at his watch. “Can I get you another, Madame?” Beth looked down at her empty wine glass, “One more, merci.” Her green eyes darted aimlessly around the airport bar. A handsome French man walked in with a beautiful woman draped around his shoulders. They sat at a table and kissed. Paris, thought Beth, this is too familiar. A young woman to the right of her read a novel and an old man who looked vaguely familiar read Le Monde. “Voilà.” The barman placed a glass of red wine in front of Beth and went back to cleaning.