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Friendly Sky

I love this moment in flight.
You've made your connection in Middleapplolis, USA and eaten the worst God-for-saken-sacrelig of a "sandwich" in the 20 minutes you have between tease touchdown, bathroom and boarding. You scored the window seat which of course means you're destined to share your row with a devil child or wild service orangutan. But you've isolated yourself successfully with your swipable memoir and bluetooth earbuds (You can barely hear the child's head exploding over in seat D-24) You've dosed. You've drooled. You've cried/lip-sang to Dear Evan Hansen. You've photo booth-ed in the mile high bathroom. The high afternoon sun is filtering perfectly into the cabin as you wake up from your most recent nap and you dare slide the eerily, toy plastic insert up to reveal that lake, that desert that must mean you're under an hour from touch down. The friendly attendants offer you one last cup of coffee and you, of course, accept. In your little rented space you carefully open the two Half 'n' Halfs that look like they could actually be from the 1970's and two packets of SUGAR- white, processed, no leaf in sight sugar; which you don't question, because this is Flight. Sure, on the ground you're dairy free and organic free range hazelnut but this is the sky, "where the backstage is limited and coffee and soda are endless". You sip your luke warm, jarringly sweet cup of joe, look out the window and marvel at the fact you are not plummeting to the ground.

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