fly

The exhileration of the take-off is more exhilerating than the flight itself. The knowing you are rising, above the masses, away from contact and obligation, above the clouds to peer down and see nothing but misty white or grey. It's enough to make me spread my wings, across my fellow passengers, and pretend I'm running down my play runway in my parents' home, taking off over the ditch and landing in my »foreign country« on the other side.