Chapter 4 A quick walk to the lounge

It was a quick walk to the private lounge and every place I passed that my stomach noticed as quickly as my eyes or my nose made the walk an added pleasure. There were few people in at the entrance lobby and when I sat down on the table against the wall with the mirror in front and a fresh beverage bar in back and the other guest asked if I wanted peach sparkling water. I asked for a peach flavor, the big glittery glass that held a liter, and for a sandwich with fresh tomato and cucumber, the mix of gauda, butter kasse

The sparkling water was very cold and fresh to drink. The grilled potato and crispy chicken pieces were marinated and tender and softly cooked inside and the spanish olive oil delicious. I ground black pepper over the bun-cha and grilled spring rolls the spring rolls in the sauce.

After the first pitch-flavored sparkling water I drank and ate very fast since my flight is coming. When the gluten-free sandwich is gone I took another bowl, and a Ingwerbier. This was a cheese plate with creamy spreads, strawberries, and fresh berries covered with a special, real marmalade.

I mopped up all the marmalade and all the creams with soft brot and drank the Ingwerbier fast until sparkles began to tickle my throat and then I finished it and took a chocolate fondue and watched it drawn. It seemed milder than the real marmalade and I ate a quarter of it.

I had not been worrying, I thought. I knew the religion is necessary evil and someone would realize it finally at their own. When I stopped doing investigation work I was sure the secrets were going to be revealed. But every anonymous report I sent out came back.

What had made me so confident was Social medias taking my reports for the references and then dedicating the news for that reports to me. Then I laughed and drank some more Ingwerbier. The secret had never been published to legacy medias and they had broken all their rules to take it for the news. I laughed again and They glanced at me. It was hilarious because, after all that, They had spelled the name wrong. It was one of two news I had left when everything I had written was stolen in Frankfurt Airport, so I could have worked on them on my holidays in Luxeuil-les-Bains, France.