It's lonely in seat 33A.
Clouds swirl below, crocheted together in an infinite blanket. Just past the horizon, red glow hints of a set sun.
Somewhere below, thousands of lives go on.
This one heads back to London. That one prepares to begin a master's program.
He prepares for a wedding. She sets up her new flat.
Another continues his studies in models, replicas, miniatures.
Lives collide and leave lasting marks. Joyous days of pressing forward together for the upward call now carry us to places new and familiar.
Sometimes, two weeks is all that is needed for wonderful friendships to begin, no matter the oceans that may soon separate.
And so it is lonely in seat 33A. New friends are left in the wake of a fading jet trail. Yet there is gratitude for such an adventure and such people.
Shall I not be glad for an ache that values people I may not see for many days? Is it not infinitely better than to feel nothing at all?
And so there is peace in seat 33A.