I think I’m going to die! My heart is beating so fast it’s almost certain to burst through my chest, leaving a messy sea of bodily effluent all over the floor of Oslo Airport, while my brain, currently struggling to process even the tiniest item of information, joins it, dribbling grey matter out my ears, nose and eyes…
No. I’m certain I’m going to die. I’m gasping for breath, while a torrent of sweat cascades down my face and back that would give Niagara Falls a run for its spume and spray.
Prog has just run further and faster than since school, some 40 years ago. And, as we slump forlornly in our seat at Gate 10 at Gardermoen, and the walls close in around us, the reason for our current physical demise, Norwegian Airlines Flight DY276, makes its way to the runway, headed for Kristiansand.
A week ago everything seemed so much easier. Kjetil
