One of those Soft Places
Like the Inn at the end of the world? Or the Desert? Below the plane I could see the endless fields of cottony clouds, rolling and still, like the white foam of the sea. Beside me are two Korean-American girls talking giddily and code-switching. It is almost lunchtime. Or dinner. Up here, time doesn't really matter. Soon it's 12 midnight on September 2, as we cross the International Date Line... And we wake up to the morning of September 2.
If I stay in an airplane forever, will I never age?