In the Aeroplane Over the Sea

In the Aeroplane Over the Sea

Whenever I board a plane I calmly consider the possibility of death, accept it and take a good look at the folks I’ll be spending my last hours with. Who would be the hero figure, the parties in a possible love triangle, the fragile person who I’d have to throw on my shoulders during the grueling attempt at escaping the wreckage, the one on the way back to his lover, etc. Strapping in it all seems so unnatural to me- being up there above the clouds, transcontinental contrails fudging up the atmosphere, cities simplified into criss-crossing grids of yellow bulbs. I much prefer land travel but Delta will have to do this afternoon.