Alitalia-Lounge: Prince Hamlet

A Story by Abishai100

A 'cool' prince with a deep fate at-hand must discover if there's 'magic' for discovery inside an airport-lounge en-route to a future of kingdom's word.

A fun summer/airport adaptation or 'spin' on Hamlet (Shakespeare). Hope you like,

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Would Prince Hamlet of New England find the new tone of excellence in Wanderlust while pondering his scheme for usurping his 'unholy' kingdom and becoming a true king of the modern Earth? Well, before he'd answer this inquiry of much, he'd seek a social-media commentary and lunch, perhaps while venturing to find a new image of beauty at the Alitalia (airport!) lounge, which (certainly) had drawn much cyber-commentary from Western citizenry and students of lore, perhaps for more and more, more of that thing we all adore...pity for hesitancy (ha).

PRINCE HAMLET: Well, I've been to Thailand, France, England, Mexico, Canada, India, Germany, Romania, and to various places in the post-9/11 era Homeland, and I'm persuasion-minded to think this quest for literature's hand for the Realism of revenge to usurp my kingdom's keepers of unholy value shall draw in me a special superstition for capitalism-race landscape enchantment, from which I shall (indeed) extract a finer tune for discovery of a 'friend' or a romantic-reader (hmm).

Well, our good prince of the Earth (New England) had now found himself in the cool Alitalia (airport!) lounge sharing his postcard-cutouts of artwork(s) and insistent to think/believe that his Wanderlust personal inquiry for consciousness and valor would draw in him a special 'encounter' with beauty or Romanticism or perhaps a simple traffic-securities education, hopefully noting to do with any modern capitalism-race woe (e.g., blood-diamond baron luxury 'tied' journalism/image).

PRINCE HAMLET: Oh, but the beauty that one seeks for the venture of fortune while on this mission for discovery of monarchy's 'seizure' (or revenge) will bring me to Depression or Restoration(s), and alas, me thinks these visions of magic in the (airport!) lounge have drawn in me a special painting that will invoke any 'good-prince' of capitalism to design a future-life 'blueprint' for the architecture of 'pure' work (ha).

Sure, our good Hamlet had found some multiple 'faces' of beauty to 'praise' on social-media culture's platforms while inside the Alitalia (airport) lounge, and he courted these potential 'faerie' beings of Romanticism with his hospitality-plates of shrimp-alfredo (pizza!) and perhaps this would create in this 'chess-master' prince of Earth a special 'taste' for what would be considered (by any!) to be a 'sauce' for any kingdom's real hand-fiction (hmm).

Well, the sad Realism in this tale of Romanticism for our good Prince Hamlet was that he'd been haunted by the ribbon-head image of his ghost-superstitious father (King Hamlet) for which he'd sought that 'extra credit' in the metaphysics of Earth's transit, inside that very 'special' Alitalia (airport!) lounge, and perhaps this tale is one of rescue and redemption through wanderings/posts rather than one of the 'darkness' of humanity's more 'odd' vision(s) of rebelliousness (wow). It's all 'accessible-art' in Hamlet's modern media-friendly age Earth (now).

QUEEN/MOTHER: Welcome home, to our veiled home of humility, Hamlet.

HAMLET: I return from Alitalia with a fair-maiden named Ezzy, Mother.

QUEEN/MOTHER: You have tenderness in language but a 'strangeness' in brains.

HAMLET: Ezzy's my Aphrodite of an inventions-tale, Mother; I shall seek victory!

QUEEN/MOTHER: Excellence; it's good to be back here (in Echelon-Glen)?

HAMLET: Why not...if I'm to be 'more' than a court-writer of Duke-handshake?

QUEEN/MOTHER: Good...it's all a photo-friendly Earth (for the words).

Do not take heed at this hesitancy of Hamlet, our good protagonist-prince of Alitalia (airport!) lounge, who shall (certainly!) discover a strange-magic and hero's superstition for seizure of his kingdom, at-hand. Perhaps he'll even find some 'stranger' dash in this character world of social-media flowery concerning the mystery (or dangers) of 'wrought' vanity, which is (very) American.