I play guitar in a band. We do a break and then it starts again with a siren sound and a crazy build-up. I play unleashed.

My son walks past me. He is strong, bare-chested. He has three tattoos. I say to my wife that I didn't realise he had these tattoos. We cheer him on. I drum loudly on a table. My other son is next to me. I had forgotten about him, neglected him. I tell him that he is strong and powerful too, so that he doesn't feel disadvantaged. He is putting on a pair of work trousers. I ask him if they're not too hot for the weather. I am glad that we still have a young daughter. Then I see that two flights to London have already been cancelled. I look for the later flights in a supermarket. These are sure to be booked up quickly. I decide in favour of the earlier flight and drive to the airport without saying goodbye to my family. At security, I stand in my socks, without shoes. I put my wet towel in my rucksack.