Flying is a terrifying thing, trapped as you are in a small can hurtling thousands of feet above the ground with someone you don’t know in control. I almost always try to get a window seat and if I’m not fixated on some screw coming loose on the wings and it’s not too turbulent, I can almost console myself on the amazing view.
It was cloudy and rainy leaving Seattle and you couldn’t see any of the mountains that ring the city. After a delay to check the weight of the plane and take some bags off to maintain its structural integrity (why the captain felt like telling me this, I do not know), we lifted into a terrible, dark cloud full of other planes heading towards us. Crouching in my seat, swaying forward against the gravity pushing me back, dizzy and faint, we slowly came through the clouds which got whiter as we neared the top. Then, out the right window, Rainier! My fear grimace turned to thirst as I waited for the stewardess to bust out the mini-bottles of whiskey. Only five hours to go…
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