From the plane, I see little clouds scattered over the sea like balls of cotton wool or sheep. They extend as far as I can see. Beneath them their shadows lie on the mirror of the sea.
On the centre of the plane´s wing, are written the words: "Do not walk outside this area."
A grey morning greets us. From the balcony, we watch, as we have done in previous years, the sun drive the clouds away with its wamth. The sea becomes silver, the sky streaked with blue.
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