Thinking on a 7am flight
I’m in the middle seat on a budget flight to Copenhagen. The woman on my right is snoring sporadically and missing the dusting of clouds visible from her sought after window seat. My sister is on my left, contorted into a position suitable only for desperate airplane sleeping. A 2:30am wake up will make (tired) people do crazy things.
I’ve started my book, bought for the trip and overtaking a stack that’s been waiting to have their covers bent and spines broken for months. I’m fickle like that when it comes to reading. But nowhere else, I don’t think (?).
A baby is upfront practicing a range of screams, cries and gibberish. Wired earphones let these surround sounds seep when instruments ebb and flow in this playlist. But at least I’m not getting those Bluetooth bumps behind my ears anymore, or feeling a little uneasy about sound travelling through my skull to connect one earphone to another.
The queue for the toilet is never ending. Looking around me everyone is sleeping in their unique positions. I’m thinking about why I’m not tired although my eyes feel heavy, and if I have enough SPF on for the stream of white light coming in at every angle. High UVs when flying and my freckles seem to have multiplied in the mirror every morning. I’m glad I saved some money for this trip.
I’ll probably post this from somewhere in Denmark with wifi. Landing is beyond 8am and check in is long after midday. The wandering new streets will commence earlier than expected. I imagine I’ll write to you from Copenhagen one more time before I return to my laptop back at home. We needed some time away from each other to truly miss our writer’s relationship.
Speak soon.
