I’ve been on a flight three times in my life
When I was, maybe 2?
Spring break of 1997
October of 2012 following my separation

I don’t remember the first
But by account from my mother
I hated it
She pointed out the clouds
I instantly shut the blind

I had conviction, even then

My last flight was my return from Texas
After a month long stay with my Aunt in Gainesville
Even at 31, I was nervous as hell
The cabin was cramped
And despite my request, I was stuck by the window
I quietly debated asking to be moved
I ate my peanuts in silence

The takeoff was much like that of a roller coaster
I’m not fond of roller coasters
I cross the street anytime I approach one
Once in the air, I relaxed
Kind of
The upside of being in the window seat is you get good view
The downside is the view
At least, I thought so
At first

There are a lot of unnerving elements of flying in a 125 ton steel potential coffin
Powered by what, by comparison, could be likened to the over powered fans
They put in the entrance of the local big box store to dry the floors

Then there’re the sounds
*clank*
*rumble*
*whiiiiiine*
Excuse me sir, would you like to sign up for a credit card that offers frequent flyer miles
Even though you look like you never want to fly again?
*whiiiiiiiiine*

Then I look out the window, because something just doesn’t feel quite right
As a pedestrian, or rather, a terran
Flat isn’t just a descriptive, but an expectation
Why are we leaning back?
Why does it feel like we’re landing, but there’s still 2 hours left of the flight?
Where’s my complimentary bag of peanuts?

That’s right
I already ate them

The thing about flying
Is that despite the things I have just described to you
It is seldom thought of
The beauty of the cities of lights
That pass under you

Chicago, is no exception
There’s no image that exudes a multitude of emotion
Than that of a lit up city
At 30,000 ft