It was 9am and the tarmac was already warm from the first glimpses of the early morning sun.
Creative Writing – Trapped by the Media
Barney Grove 3 October 2006
It was 9am and the tarmac was already warm from the first glimpses of the early morning sun. A small private jet had just touched down and out of it came the Williams. The Williams were too important to waste time going through normal customs and collecting baggage; they had places to go and people to see. There just outside of the Airport, their chauffer driven Mercedes limousine was waiting for them. The limo left Terminal 1 smoothly and was soon out of the airport area and on to the palm tree flanked promenade. One side lay the beach leading into the inviting dark blue Mediterranean; on the other were exclusive apartments, boutiques and 5 star hotels. The limo came to a gentle halt as the doorman came up to help with the luggage, they had arrived.
The VIPs walked up the red carpet and through the revolving doors with a distinctive style. They stepped through the doors and out of the public eye. They entered a different almost fairytale land which suggested eons of fun. They swaggered up to the check-in and there was no need for words, “Williams, Superior suite” said the neat check in girl. Almost immediately they began climbing the grand marble staircase right to the top. The manager showed them through huge double doors into a room fit for a king, but the Williams didn’t comment. “I’ll leave you to it sir” said the manager. Mr Williams didn’t reply, but the manager left hardly surprised. They opened there suitcases and got out the essentials but they weren’t really interested in unpacking. After they had refreshed themselves in ‘his’ and ‘hers’ bathrooms, they left the suite and swooped down the marble staircase onto the red carpet and out through the revolving door.
