I had a plane to catch this morning, so I beat the sun out of bed. It was nice, brushing my teeth in stunning silence with only lamp lights on. When I looked in the mirror, my eyes looked puffy and vibrant, kind of like an angel on a Christmas card. Have you ever been the first person to step out into the morning? It's like walking in on a very interesting, secret conversation. You watch the sky go from charcoal to a shimmering grey, and then electric blue. I am amazed that they let me in on this, and I know, I'm special.
It was warm in my car, speeding to the airport. Everything suddenly seemed like airplanes. My car sounded like a plane against the expressway. The radio host sounded like a stewardess. I felt like a pilot in front of all these glowing controls.
Why does walking sometimes seem easier and more comfortable when I have bags to carry?
Why do I suddenly feel more confident, smiling at people, just because my arms have a place to rest? I looked inside every shop in the terminal as I walked fashionably by with my suitcases. One bookstore had a light brown wood floor and neon lighting. They already had the air conditioner running, and the signs and price tags were bright orange. I passed by a Dutch deli that smelled like cinnamon and chocolate, and there were rich red apples on display. I looked down at my boots. I felt like I was marching. I was a book worm, and I was Dutch.
By the time I was seated on the plane, the sky was already transparent blue. The sun was just a not ripe pineapple, too high in the sky. The paleness of these colors made my stomach feel incredibly hollow. I folded some gum into my mouth to make this go away. The mint was really strong and so was the take off, but I questioned how strong I was.