CHAPTER I
Eoin was a traditional young irish adult. He had deep casual blue eyes, long brown curly hair and a strong, lilting accent. He was tall and slim and not unattractive even in his own eyes. However on that misty hazy morning in mid-december he was not happy. He was not happy because he was going to America. He was moving to America looking for fame and fortune, at least as much as a traditional irish musician can gain in America. He'd be a novelty, something new, or so he kept telling himself. He returned to staring dejectedly out the window of the dirty taxi and onto his beloved countryside to whom he would soon be saying farewell.
As the taxi pulled up to the ugly, garishly white terminal building, he felt the last shreds of hope dwindle and die inside him. He advanced through the glass doors and over the threshold of the airport. As he went to check in his guitar and suitcase he looked around at the building. Eoin hated airports, he often wondered why there were all a shade of headsplitting white, perhaps a deep brown or a soothing green would be more relaxing at 4 in the morning. All the lights were always on which only fuelled Eoins theory: airports are there destroy the environment and give anyone who passes through a migrain.
after having waited in the queue for the best part of an hour, Eoin was called forward by a woman who was a little too tall, slim and overly tanned to be beautiful, she gave him a croked and fake smile. He handed the bags over without a word and replied to all the usual security questions with all the usual answers.
the departures lounge was no better though they did have a cafe where Eoin sat down to have a cup of impertinantly hot coffee amongst all the hustle bustle of the people passing by, seemingly desparate to flee their home country.
