You fall into a deep sleep, the kind that only the remains of a red eye, translatlantic flight can offer. When you wake up, the Red Sea lies below. A man is praying in the galley, his prayer mat travel size, the silence around him heartening. You splurge on an hour of Wi-Fi to download work, only to find that the work refuses to be downloaded. This may be a sign.
The anticipation of arrival evades you, like you cannot imagine what lies on the other side of that Arrivals door, and your lack of imagination surprises you, was this not your strong suit? You only imagine you've packed too many sweaters.
A new horizon beckons.
You walk towards it as though you always knew you would.
No comments:
Post a Comment