I was caught in the middle of a firefight between militant wings of the Scientologist and Hari Krishna movements. There were bullets flying everywhere, as the two enemies battled over control of the Ottawa International Airport lobby. I was pinned down behind a ticket kiosk, hoping that the mound of plastic and metal would be enough to stop the high velocity 5.56mm bullets screaming past. I knew I didn’t want to wait until I took a bullet to find out if I was safe, I did something I probably shouldn’t - I ran for it.
Spotting a nearby doorway, I picked myself up off the floor and ran. I knew I could get there quickly, being a pretty fast runner, but once I got going, I suddenly had an idea what it was like to run across the 417 in traffic. Only these bullets were much smaller, more numerous, and a lot, lot faster than cars. It took everything I had to keep me from freezing in place as I felt the burning wind of SS109’s graze my flesh.
Reaching the door, my hand thrust out, hoping it wasn’t locked. It wasn’t. I bolted in, closed the door behind me, and locked it. Once my breathing normalized I realized I was in a kitchen. Since it was 5:45, and I was starting to get hungry. I took a look around at what was available, and threw this meal together.
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