There are great days. There are not so great days. And then there are days that make you so inexplicably happy that you can’t contain yourself.
But more on that later.
I sit loosely strapped to my seat, completely ignoring the woman with too much makeup on who’s trying to make sure I know how to not die in case the airplane plummets out of the sky. Or lands on water. Or inexplicably runs out of oxygen. Considering recent events, that won’t even be too farfetched to consider. She does a weird enactment of putting an oxygen mask on yourself that looks more like she’s imitating an epileptic duck. I grudgingly pay a little more attention to her voiced aerobics session and feel sorry for the poor thing. She must be doing this at least twice a day, if not more: flailing her arms in front of people showing a complete lack of – or too much of – interest.
Just another job that works on the principal of appointing pretty women to please clients. I make a mental note to ask on the review form about the lack of male air stewards.
I look out the window onto what looks like a playground for gigantic machines. Fog is beginning to roll in, lending a strangely calming softness to the sharp edges and piercing lights. Metal wings outlined by the dreary twilight, looking like cybernetic birds. Tiny people run to and fro, engrossed in making the playground work. I am reminded of how that is what we all do: run to and fro, engrossed in what we think is most important. For some it is their work, for others their happiness and for further more, the happiness of others. Blessed be he for whom all three are the same!
There must really be people like that in the world. Lucky bastards.
I gaze distantly onto the tarmac, thinking of that happy, happy day. The conversations, the places, the people(person, truth be told, but let’s not let the cat out of the bag). Of words that are so kind, they are rare; of intentions that are so good, they are extinct.
I smile a certain smile that can be brought upon only by another. Of such smiles and good feelings, the world had grown short. It was nice to be reminded of their existence, if only to be denied of it not long after.
Too soon, life. Too soon. You have a way of making me wait. And when I wait, I deliberate. When I deliberate, I change my mind.
And I’d like to keep this one.
The big machine wobbled onto the runway, ready to soar gracefully and lead me into my chosen solitude.