Pencil Airways

It was quite a dramatic day at work, and I was the reason.


First I almost killed Sir Winston Churchill by accident when having him stumbling around on a slippery white marble floor in Marrakech.

Then I tricked Yves Saint-Laurent into planting some Periwinkle from Madagascar in the garden of his exquisitely designed Moroccan Riad.


Alfred Hitchcock at the other hand, he got to taste the tragic destiny of one of his many blonde heroines; abducted behind windblowing textiles at the colorful, magic and mythic square, Jemma-el Fnaa.


Just for the fun of it I added a grain of sand.

A grain of sand that throughout a century gently been carried by the winds over Sahara all the way from Timbuktu, Only to end up in the basket of a cuddly cobra, tired of dancing to the music conjured by a blind and blue-clad snake charmer.


About a thousand French billionaires, some roasted quail, an early bird peacock and a hint of mint later, the story was told, written down and done.


The day finally ended high among The Atlas Mountains in Morocco. There I got stuck and needed to reroute tomorrows desert adventures in Oman for some tee-time at the pleasant, warm and always welcoming island of Mauritius.


Som writing work sure are more free of spirit and full of fantasy than others.

Luckily Pencil Airways flies pretty much everywhere.

And Beyond!

// T.