Today, I flew, and then again… I didn’t. I sped through the air, crossing miles and miles of land and water as if it were nothing, as if it were a mere jaunt to a nearby town. But it wasn’t me . I was simply an observer of a plane, given the view the plane has, and the experience the plane went through, as it did the action of flying through the sky. I simply sat back, and enjoyed the ride… I felt the plane exert its strength, stirring and awakening deep within itself. Then, it moved. It started slow, but soon picked up speed, confident in its course. I gazed in awe as the standing rainwater began to stream past the windows, rippling over the panes in strange, writhing currents. The clouds had formed ranks low in the sky, blocking the path forward, but the plane flew straight, unflinching, determined to take its place in the sky. The night exerted its hold over me, causing me to yawn and lean back in my chair, resting. But a plane never sleeps. The dark pas
Catherine LaVarre-Author of Band of Four: Tune of the Heart