Mid Flight Blues
by Alister Thorpe
Travelling
again! Flying to Kl for a wedding, an Indian at
that. The flights only a tad less than three
hours but boredom has set in one hour in. Eaten,
the lights have been dimmed the plane 45 minutes
late. I find these days in this sort of
aircraft I just want to get there. My wife has
the right idea. She is asleep with her head
leaning up against the bulk head. I find sleeping
in a plane a pain in the neck literally. I can't
get comfortable even though this time the seat
next to us is empty. The light meal devoured in
my usual last meal manner, even gives me
indigestion. I am becoming an old crock, set in
my way, legs in harding concrete boots. The flame
of adventure is barely a flicker these days.
A comfortable hotel with good bed and air
conditioning will suffice. I study my wife's
face looking angelic; had a very busy week with a
conference and has died in her seat.
Metaphorically of course, as if death was so
peaceful looking. ( I know, I used to work in the
dying business)
The plane
rocks a little to remind us we are still 30,000
feet up.
I have noticed something a little different this
flight - no screaming kids. What a joy to behold,
a quiet aircraft. I like when I can organise a
seat near the exit or bulkhead for extra leg room.
The only disadvantage, you're on to it, crying
babies. As they say beggars can't be choosers and
they're right. It's swings and roundabouts really,
you win some you lose some. ( I'm only writing
like this because my wife is always asking me to
recite idioms and I can never remember any at the
time.)
Looked out the
window, sun about to disappear, lots of fluffy
cotton balls as far as the eyes can see. Looks
good enough to step out on, but I'm not going to
this flight.
Opps the
silence has been broken by a rather large man
snoring. Always a problem when you sleep with 140
others.
This little
writing exercise is doing its job. Just wasted 20
minutes thinking about rubbish to write about.
Talking about rubbish I am told by those close to
me I use that term far too often. Everything I
see or do is rubbish. I personally only use it if
it is, well.... rubbish. I don't like the
alternative, garbage because it's just too
American. Give me good old English rubbish any
day.
That was a load of rubbish, wasn't it. I can be
more creative than that but unfortunately I don't
have the ability to turn it on like a tap of
water. It's more like the rain, it comes and goes.
Here today, gone tomorrow. There I go again.
The plane has
decided to decelerate and drop its nose. Must be
getting close to where ever I'm going. So there
you have it 500 words of pure nonsense. Goodnight.
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