On My Way

I wake in my airplane seat to the tapping of the person behind on my headrest. They are busy choosing their video entertainment on their touchscreen monitor, but I can feel every tap.

NowI am reluctant to try and find anything to watch on my screen because I’m worried about annoying the chap infront, by tapping into the back of his head.

I try lightly pressing the screen but nothing registers, so I resign myself to staring blankly at the flight map, as we creep from one side of the screen to the other.

A quick check of the watch – 1.05pm. One hour after take-off. “We’ll be cruising over Ireland by now,” I think, safe in the knowledge I was finally on my way to America.

A quick glance out of the window. “Hmm, awful lot of tarmac covering Ireland.”

“I’m sorry, folks,” comes the captain’s voice over the tannoy. “We’re still waiting for clearance. We’ll have you on your way soon.” I plugged my earphones in and tried to get some more rest.

I venture to the toilet after a few hours of watching Greenland come and then go. But it’s a while before I’m back in my seat because I have this stupid fear that when I press ‘flush’, the suction will be so strong it will suck me out of the plane.

It’s a good six minutes before I muster up the courage to press it. I survive and sigh repeatedly on my way back to 40D.

I wake to find both Sacramento and I under a blanket; me a woolen blanket, Sacramento a blanket of evening sun. The fields glisten golden as we float lower.