A pack of cards just waiting on top a round, dark wood table, the present, past and future. Seven cards, seven premonitions with a deadly meaning like only seven can have. A prince and a queen, so v.i.p are we, a five and six torment and disgrace, a star as bright as only night can be, and at the end? No other than seven itself so beautiful outside so rotten inside, oh yes what else could it be.
There are some stars outside, few people on the street, a car going by, a twirling wind asking directions to nowhere land, bad luck it seems. This flight is full. After all this is a small aircraft only five seats and million more in each one. A small clay bowl with three peanuts and a gallon of beer.