𝙄𝙙𝙚𝙖𝙨, 𝙎𝙝𝙤𝙧𝙩 𝙎𝙩𝙤𝙧𝙞𝙚𝙨 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙀𝙨𝙨𝙖𝙮𝙨

Traveling [SHORT STORY]

I miss traveling. I love everything about it. Like waking up before the beautiful sunrise and the excitement that continually builds as you pack away last-minute items. The ride to the airport as the sun begins to wash over the earth, reflecting off of the dew on the ground outside. Even the long lines you stand in, waiting to check in your bags, don't feel that bad when your mind is already soaring through the sky. The security checkpoint never seems as annoying as you remember it to be when your thoughts are set on the adventure of going somewhere other than home.

It was like my own little tradition to get a tuna sandwich and blue Powerade while I waited for our gate to be called. Whenever I eat a tuna sandwich I think about all the places I've been to. When I buy blue Powerade I remember the first time when I brought the half-full bottle on the plane and was excited to learn that the low pressure in the air so high up would crunch the bottle up like magic. I always make sure never to drink all of my Powerade so that I can watch the pressure take hold of the bottle every time.

A lot of people complain about how loud airplanes are. I find the noise comforting. The engine hums with purpose and power continuously and it makes the walls of the plane vibrate. During the flight, I always lean against the side of the plane and I feel the slight shaking going through my head, which almost always puts me to sleep.

I consider myself lucky when I score a seat next to one of the wings because I find it cool to watch as the pilots begin to test the flaps. They always sound like a well-oiled machine but with a slight change in the noise depending on whether the flaps are moving up or down. Then, when the propellers start to spin, I can never help but stare in star-struck fascination with my nose pressed close against the thick window at how they start quite slow indeed and end up spinning so fast that to try and watch a single blade would be foolish.

Almost everyone finds the safety briefing necessary but tedious, but not me. As soon as I get to my seat on the plane the first thing I do is start flipping through the manual on how all of the safety equipment is to be operated. I like to look for where my life jacket is hidden and the spots above me by the AC nozzles where the masks would drop down from if the cabin started to lose pressure. Whenever I walk past the seats with the emergency exits, I look to see if there is anyone sitting in the seat. If there is, I silently wish them luck in operating it, even though the chance of them being used is low. I like to look at the lights at the bottom of the seats that would light up if they needed to and the outlines in the ceiling where I knew I could find inflatable rafts. When I was in my seat I would repeatedly close and open my seatbelt and fuss around with it, making it looser and tighter until it was perfect. When the flight attendants would demonstrate how the seatbelts, life jackets, and masks were to be used, I always paid them more attention than even my teachers in school.

Takeoff. The greatest thing about planes. Backing out of the parking space slowly but surely. Driving along the long runway. The U-shaped turn and the temporary stop, filled with my anticipation as the pilots prepare for liftoff. And then you hear it; the almost overwhelmingly powerful sound of the main engines, building from nothing to 100 and the plane gathers speed, hurtling down the runway and slanting upwards, letting the front wheels leave the ground until, just before you reach the end, the back wheels leave too and suddenly you're flying. Flying away, to somewhere other than home.

28/06/2020