March 16 - The Shining

I'm in Moscow's Sheremetyevo Airport with a long layover listening to the theme from The Shining on my iPod. I barely slept last night, if at all. The lack of sleep, the ominousness of the song, the isolation caused by having earbuds in my ears, and the steel, tile and dust of the post-Soviet layout of the airport are all casting a surreal and foreboding pallor over everything I see: A couple walks by holding hands, the man laughing, the woman not. A man in uniform looks at me from across the room and speaks into a walkie-talkie. The woman in the cell phone ad that's looping on the TV screen looks directly into my eyes and shushes me. Outside, barely visible in the cold distance, a lone figure walks along the runway. Inside, a baby cries; her mother ignores her. Passengers walk through the terminal in slow motion, a few of them looking at me briefly and then looking away. There's Russian writing everywhere. Every time I turn my head, my eyes take a second to catch up. The snows have started again. It's cold. I need to get out of here.