I was stood in a queue waiting to be checked thoroughly by security in the small spanish airport of Zaragoza. Time was passing by slowly, and a friend asked me for a lighter. I plunged my hand into my pocket and my amiable smile dropped when my fingers wrapped themselves around a very different item. My leatherman. My prized leatherman that had been with me through thick and thin for many years. My much adored leatherman that my grandmother had given me when i was but a wee lad, and which had always been by my side since, to the point where all of its green paint had been rubbed off. My bags had already been checked in and there was no way i was going to be able to smuggle it onboard a flight bound for London. Gravefaced, i stood there in the queue, willing my penknife to be in my luggage. I sighed, walked over to a bin and dropped it in.

I stood there looking into the bin, this was no way for our relationship to end, surely there was something i could do.. and suddenly my grumpy face eased up. There was something! I smiled and plucked it out from the rubbish. I quickly hurried to my group and asked them to save my place. Time was of the essence, i only had a few minutes. I grabbed the back of an envelope and a pen and hurried outside to begin writing.

Good bye my friend.