I'm sitting in an airport chair. Nice. Comfortable and soft. I could probably sit here forever if I were a bum or some other type of person without a home, and just dig all the people coming in and out of the terminal gates. I ask myself where they could be going, where they could be coming from. I picture myself as some sort of ruler or diety. To get on their flights, people would have to toss little silver coins into baskets at my feet. I would never deign to look at any of them. Perhaps my gates would be the gates to Heaven and Hell. Hell would be on the left, Heaven to the right. They would line up single file for miles and I would point to the left or right after each had dropped their coin in the basket. I would secretly relish the looks of despair on the faces of those consigned to Hell. Unbeknownst to them, I would sentance them arbitrarily, much like a bouncer at the door to a popular nightclub. All the attractive and rich would I send to Hell, where their earthly beauty would be burnt away by the flames leaving only the ugliness of their souls. The poor and downtrodden would I send to Heaven, where they would be transfigured into beautiful creatures fit to match the angels.